


Second First Breath

by PleaseAmHelpless



Series: Higanbana [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Character Death, Gen, Hyuuga Clan, I Tried, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Oc Knows Nothing of The Naruto-Universe, Oc as Hyuuga Hinata, Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Reincarnation, Self-Insert?, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-07
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-06-23 11:56:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 39,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15605766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PleaseAmHelpless/pseuds/PleaseAmHelpless
Summary: Reincarnation, an impossible possibility, I never have thought to imagine. Why me?





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this story. Thank you for reading and have a wonderful day.

Darkness. Pain. Bright light. Blurred. Loud. Pain. Sensitive. Pain. Fear.

Familiar.

Yet not. This is different.

I died.

Yet I breathe. How? Why?

Fear. Pain. Warmth. Soft. No pain. Muted. Blurred. Warmth. Terror. Nothingness.

* * *

 

Feeling the minute movement of my eyelids, seeing the blurred world before me, the sluggish movement of uncontrollable soft, underdeveloped limbs, with an unusual awareness of my developing brain. A conclusion was reached: I am a **_newborn_**.

Weak. defenseless. Vulnerable. Useless. Uncontrollable. Pathetic.

These thoughts prick and wound my mind before a fog of unpredictable exhaustion consumes me. My eyelids starts to flutter shut, darkness becomes more familiar. The god of dreams awaits and I do not welcome Morpheus, but then I have never welcomed his shadowy arms since my innocence was ripped and torn. My jagged, bleeding, whirring mind slowly silences. Sleep comes and I dream. I dream of blood and pain and screams that tear the mind and choke the throat.

* * *

 

 

The wail of a baby is torn from my throat. The snap opening of my eyelids brings light, it blinds. This adds to the unearthly wail I have. Tears spring from my eyes wetting and trailing down my sensitive, heated skin. My mind whirs with seared, clear images of the past and thoughts of reaching unreachable control to control myself. I do not even briefly touch the surface, it brings anger. More emotion brought to the sound, more force to the air, more pain encroaching in my throat.

Then a voice feminine, frantic, fatigued comes and encases me in familiarity and security. My screams soften, my limbs move chaotically towards it, her, my mind knows a fleeting peace. For a moment peace is touched, "Hinata", my **_name?_** is whispered and how the peace shatters like falling glass. Shatters and burns and cuts. Then I know distrust, anger, and that rotting hate.

Another screams forms and cuts through my throbbing throat. **_She_** , does not silence this one.

Pain. Fear. Anger. Hate. Warmth. Security.

These emotions become a cycle. Repeat.


	2. Nine Months

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.
> 
> Have an amazing day, you fantastic readers!

Time was nonsensical. Any thoughts, emotions, sounds, and actions burst in wild fervor. Any meager resemblance of control that can be grasped is held bruising tight. Black, yellow, and purple bruising invisibly forms.

* * *

 

Time is now sensible, flowing undeterred within my knowledge. Time, for me now has reference, a start, vague as it is: Months. Around nine months I have lived and breathed in my new shell, struggling against my mind and body. Nine months to regain control, but the strained effort, as always, bears fruit.

My outbursts of emotions and the consequences that follow are now soften, slowly becoming muted the longer I thrash against its tide. My body sluggishly acting in accordance to my whims, however short the period is. My mind brimming in awareness, curiosity, and comprehension. The once blurred world is now clear and focused. I now know a resemblance of balance. A faltering balance of my mind and my body. I now stand with wavering muscles.

Nine months became a point of reference when that woman was overcome with joy and surprise. When she babbled congratulations, love, and the only words I should care for: nine months. Nine months that had felt like years.

Standing should not seem like a feat, but in this moment it was. This was a conquering moment. I could not help but bask in this, bask in my tattered pride and accomplishment of an insignificant feat.

I can stand. I can improve. I can become a mirrored image of me from before. Cracked and hazy, but a resemblance to the past. Sentimental yet I could not scourge up an ounce of regret for a little comfort. No matter how much comfort is an absurd notion, it stays and wants.

Now to move. To Walk. Improve.


	3. Acknowledge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto
> 
> Have a fantastical day, you beautiful and handsome readers!

To caught up in the moment of my cautious faulty steps I did not register another presence. I did not register the searing keen look upon my figure. Not until freezing words fell from a stern and thinning mouth.

"This is no accomplishment Hitomi. Stay such words until something truly worthy comes from our daughter. Do not disturb me until then." Such cold and rigid words fell my his lips.

Such cold disregard towards _**her**_ and me, his **_daughter?_** Such slow meticulous enunciation that crept and burrowed within my skin. A part of me wishing to not have understood his words. To not have remembered and known Japanese from the past. A want to be ignorant. How it freezes and burns and ignites a spreading flame. A diseased prideful monster starts to form. A misguided notion of protection for... ** _her_**.

 ** _Her?_** Why? No... I could not... The hissing black, prideful, rot heaves and growls for **_her_**.

"Hai, Hiashi-san and forgive me. I will not disturb you until then." **_Her_** normally kind, strong, and soft voice now wavered, meek, and whispered. Oh, and how she bows to him. Low and straight and rigid. A pang of **_hurt_**? Travels through me and realization of an uncomfortable magnitude is taking light. I care for her. I care enough to protect, it terrifies. I care enough to lov-

I could feel it, the opening of my tiny mouth to lash poison at him. To tear, claw, and see him bleed. A reaction without consent to defend, the loss of suffocating control, the tension lining my body filled with fear, hurt, and irritation. Sound starts to form from the pit of my throat and air filling my body to try to choke down that need. Sound escapes, a gargle noise of unintelligible words. Slowly but surely becoming more pronounced along with my fear to show affection towards **_her_**. The urge to cry. I fall backwards.

Slowly forming words turn to piercing screams. With this the tension that armored me softens marginally, relief soothes my veins and for a second I am thankful for my body to barely acknowledge my power and control. I cannot love **_her_** , I cannot. Love is a disease that has riddled my old body from before. It stung and ripped and-

A soft delicate warmth surrounds me and I know its _ **her**_. I cannot care for - yet I melt into the embrace and my screams turn to a whimper then revered silence. **_Her_** soft voice envelopes me and I reach toward those enchanting lavender tinted eyes like a servant to their god for enlightenment. The poisonous monster within keels and I know love again.

* * *

 

I struggle. I fail. I know. I will not acknowledge. I can't acknowledge.

My Okaa-san.

Do not become one of my worst nightmares again.


	4. Lessons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.
> 
> Have a beautiful day,you lovely readers!

Twelve months have passed and I have been able to coerce my muscles to move in grace and obey within that time. Twelve months have passed and I have shown my Okaa-san that I can dance words and move syllables to a created beat. In twelve months I have shown an uncanny intelligence and been granted recognition from Hyuuga Hiashi, my Otou-san, and head of the clan. A man who has deemed me worthy enough to educate me in the ways of the Hyuuga clan and as its apparent heiress.

The lessons taught by Hiashi were mostly of the importance of the Hyuuga clan's eyes. The Byakugan, the all seeing white eye. A dojutsu, eye techniques, that would allow its wielder to go beyond their normal perception, to see around their body and beyond. This visual ability even allows the wielder to see through solid objects, to be able to track and see what cannot be found by 'normal' means and more. Some of these abilities can even be trained to preform in a more greater magnitude.

With this our Byakugan is held high in recognition and power. A reputation that makes men give into their greed. This greed which drives them to take our eyes for themselves. To take and wear and use. A fearful terror which I thought only existed in nightmares. This was the main reason why I have been imprisoned since birth within these four walls of my room. Why I have guards placed against the front of the door. It is unbelievable. Its raises my hackles and maw showing sharpened, dripping, teeth. I cannot allow that possibility to happen. I can't-

"Do not stagnate in the possibility of chance, Hinata. In my power and caution you are safe. Now withdraw such thoughts from your mind and let me continue this lesson." His soften voice echoed with a peek of a warm undertone.

As those words fell from his mouth I felt as if Hyuuga Hiashi is a man, not a cold thing. This feeling, his concern, shaved off some of my fear. I was able to breathe again with unwavering breaths and focus the rest of my attention towards him. For a moment I open my mind to interest and curiosity. I let fear blend into the corners of my mind. Lying in wait to be addressed with no soul in my line of vision. I silently give my thanks.

"Now Hinata understand this, while our eyes are superior, this superiority means nothing without chakra. Chakra is needed for the Byakugan to keep, sustain, and gain in its abilities. Chakra is fundamental." Hiashi's voice echoed in my mind. A voice with a rigid cold flow, commanding to be adhered to and I adhere to the brown haired man. A nod, more questions flitting through my mind and upon the tip of my tongue begging to be heard.

This information seems like a created endeavor of imagination meant to entertain. A created fact in a false imagined world, fiction. Yet, I cannot deny that this is my reality now. That reincarnation is real, this world is real, this world full of madness with all seeing eyes and chakra. It stupefies me.

I, in a way, knew nothing. I need answers.

So, I asked, "Chakra? What else can the Byakugan do? Superior? There are other dojutsus?" The questions left my mouth with barely any thought. Fast, eager, and brimming with a thirst to be quenched from my curiosity. I would beg if it meant I could understand. I need to understand.

"Please, Hiashi-sama allow me to know the world." A bow in my seated position, my tone changed from curios to respectful, I begged.

These implications and facts of his knowledge gives rise in my need to survive. This world is dangerous. A dangerous world that I live and breathe in. While I do hate to live again, I do not want to die again either. My mind opens to the comforts of terror again. While my mind wars between thoughts and feelings, my face only shows eager curiosity.

A long look was cast upon my curios form. His thin mouth opened and in that moment I hoped all would be answered. All my questions, curiosity, and confusion would be gone. That his words would lessen my fear again. I know fear will not fade away into nothingness, but that was fine. Fear helps to keep you alive. It helped me survive a long while in my past. It will again in my present.

"Chakra is which life is made and sustained. A life force that is within and around you. A power that can be wielded to protect, defend, and destroy. Chakra in essence is power, life, and even death. Do you understand, Hinata?" His regal voice raised ever so slightly towards the end. A way to pull my attention and possible understanding in what I could only assume has a underlining meaning.

Chakra is dangerous. Powerful. Chakra is an entity that commands respect and knowledge. I have begun to respect this power, but I do not truly know it.

After a few beats in a lapse of silence I affirm my understanding to him. Looking into his sharp eyes I wait for more information. I convey my thirst for his knowledge as if he was the only man that could give me a sip of water in the rolling sands of a seemingly life-less desert.

A strong calloused hand was brought up as a sign to stop, Hiashi spoke, "No. The barest of basics have been taught and learned. Anymore knowledge of this particular subject will be withheld until you have reached the age of three. As for the question if there are other dojutsus, the answer is yes. Though this knowledge will wait to be answered until our next lesson."

My faltering hope was shattered. I could not grasp the widening of my eyes or the downward tilting of my lips. In my tensing form disappointment took root. I barely kept my fear in only my thoughts. Tightening my hands into fists, the nails almost dig deep enough to bleed.

"There is a reason for this, Hinata. You are not physical able to learn such lessons nor do I believe such lessons on chakra or our dojutsu can be fully comprehended unless through action. Now I will take my leave. Hitomi shall enter immediately after my leave to teach the lessons befitting of a lady and heiress. I will come when I deem necessary to check your progress. Do not disappoint." His reasoning penetrated my mind to the barest of relief.

The bare relief that one day I will be able learn more of this subject. That I will be able to survive within this world. With this reasoning I try to push the fear, and all that it encompasses in the back of my mind. It barely works. Hiashi rises to leave. I prepare myself for the next lesson in my education. When night comes I will surrender myself to my fears, silently.

The world I live in is dangerous, it brings fear. Fear brings the need to survive. I will survive. I want to live longer than 28.


	5. Appearance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: As always I do not own Naruto
> 
> Note: This chapter is more of a filler? Does not move the plot along, but I believe it is somewhat important. Hopefully.
> 
> Have a fortunate day, dear readers.

Staring at the mirror I do not see me. I see an impostor. I know this is who I am. My thoughts, emotions, every jagged piece that fits perfectly into the puzzle that is me, glares inside me. Yet I cannot associate this image to me. I cannot see me. Its disorienting, discombobulating, leaving me with a dissociation of identity. I cannot find myself.

I shouldn't think this way. I know that this is me, but I cannot overcome this. I can't- I wish-

Stop. I should stop.

But I wish.

I wish for the old me, a piece of the past that isn't paved in scattered memories. The real thing. Concrete. Something I can see and touch. A selfish, desperate wish that will never come true.

I know I will never see my dark eyes that kissed the gemstone, Axinite or feel my long thick corkscrew hair colored like rich soil after a drizzling rain. I will never see my scarred skin of chestnut. I will never be able to glide my hands down the side of my muscled hourglass body, in the rare moment of appreciation. I will never have the beauty of me that I had once before. I am not me. I can feel the mist gathering in my eyes.

No what graces me now is smooth porcelain skin, those all seeing white-lavender tinted eyes, and black-blue tinted hair that reminds me of a star sapphire gem. Hair that is straight and smooth and touches the blades of my shoulders with bangs styled and cut straight across my forehead. Hair that is easily decorated, easily worked with. Not like before. The tidal wave of emotions crash and drown me.

I am not me. I never will be again. The tears come unbidden.


	6. Freedom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.
> 
> Note: Yeah another chappie! One that has plot! Ish! Its cool. I tried.
> 
> Anyways, have a whimsical day, fellow humans.

Today is the day I am able to leave my room. The room colored in a lilac sky with dancing indigo butterflies. A room that has been more of a prison since my birth, a year and eight months ago. Freedom is granted and it tastes more sweet and pronounced than expected. I welcome it with open arms.

Today the sun will finally embrace me and the air fresh will have the chance to place soft kisses upon my skin. I yearn to re-experience this, I yearn to feel as if I have a chance to feel like a human. Not a caged inhuman fabricated thing.

"Hinata, my daughter, come. Let me dress you and brush your hair. Today I have been granted to show you the beauty of this world and let the world know of your existence. Please, come." Okaa-san's soft voice rings through the air, caressing my sense of sound. I can only obey.

"Hai, Okaa-san!" I could not help but echo back with a joyous shout and a stretching smile that accompanies my soft childish face.

Her laugh was the only response. I find it to be addicting. My scarce elation soars to new heights.

My smile widens more, feelings of anticipation and excitement rush through me as my bare feet touch the cool wooden floor. A clumsy push off my Tatami bed I began to move like a newborn fawn towards my ever decorated and painted Okaa-san. I reach and stare at her with a blaring, silent, demanding readiness. She responds with brightening eyes, soft joy, and a delicate touch of my reddening cheek. She is beauty personified and I now know what it means to have a true mother.

I ready and prepare myself to be painted in her vision. I eagerly await to greet the outside. I bask in the positive emotions.

Any dark thoughts are held and chained.

I have found a high that I wish never leaves. I attempt to hoard it.


	7. Freedom - Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto
> 
> Note: New chappie is out! I hope you all enjoy this chapter. Let me know what you think.
> 
> Have a day worth its weight in gold, readers.

As I start to be dressed and formed like art, Okaa-san speaks.

"Listen Hinata," Her melodious voice flows as her hands expertly weaves my hair in a regal up-style bun.

"There are conditions that must be met before I escort you outside of this room, the compound. One such condition is that you must be escorted at all times with a trusted Hyuuga member your Otou-san has picked. Of course this member is temporary until the true one comes of age." She continues as her hands motion me to stand so she can continue to dress me to her vision.

"Your temporary escort for today shall be Hyuuga Hizashi, your Otou-san's twin brother. Then by tomorrow the escort will change, who will be Hyuuga Ko, a young shinobi. Ko-kun shall be your true-temporary escort until Hyuuga Neji, Hizashi-san's son, can come into his role. Even then you might be escorted from the shadows by your Otou-san's leisure." Raising my arms, she flows in voice and action. A black-lavender kimono decorated with small white flowers is being placed upon my body.

A look of content concentration masks her face as she talks and creates. With half a mind I listen and the other half I question. Trusted? Are there members of my clan that cannot be trusted? Why? Something to ponder and investigate.

"Neji-kun is a bright boy, much like you, from the bran-,' A pause from her flowing speech peeks my interest.

My current thoughts turn to stone so I can concentrate on her body's actions and next words. Her hands pause with the white obi, slowly gripping it tighter. The look of content concentration fell and is replaced by guilt and grief. I can feel the vicious stab of hurt spread across my body. I struggle not to show how much I see, how much I wish to comfort her. She has a telling of information that I will not give up. A sharp soft breath that vaguely reminds me of a wounded animal left her lips. As the sound passes her painted red lips, she straightens a bit more rigid in the sieza position and continues her actions as if nothing had happened. If a lingering sadness starts to mists her eyes, I ignore it.

"Ah, gomen, Hinata. I merely forgot and almost slipped in telling a lesson your Otou-san wishes to give." The white obi in her delicate hands now laid across my stomach and sides tightens as she starts to fit it on me. Her eyes narrow in slight anger before she angles her face away from my skulking accessing view.

"Neji-kun, as I said, is a bright boy who has started his training as a your guardian and as a shinobi-in-training before the academy, much like you will be when granted. Though I should replace shinobi with kunoichi, shouldn't I." A pause in finishing the final design of me, Okaa-san lifts her left hand to cover her lower face and softly laugh.

Her laugh wasn't as light, free, or airy as before. Her eyes do not brighten either. Guilt stitches through me as I stand convincingly unaware and carefree before her. All so I could gather information. Information no matter how unassuming, can be useful. Cold and calculating thoughts spin to create a web. It seems my past actions begin to seep into the present. My past is now, not rooted in only memories and personality.

Foolishly I attempt to appease the stitching guilt by straying my thoughts to how I was 'training' to become a kunoichi by gathering intel. Trying to lessen the guilt on remembering the last lesson Hiashi had given me: Kunoichi, a female ninja, a soldier. Straying my thoughts to a childish light. Not the true intentions of distrust, ingrained actions, and curiosity. It does not work.

The thoughts I forced to stray elsewhere, turn on me. It tells of how I only feel guilt now, is because I care. I've rusted and dulled. I've lost my edge, un-honed and compromised. If she wasn't what she is to me, no guilt would ever be found or traced in my mind. These forced thoughts show me that even though I feel guilt I continue. Just like in the beginning. After I ran away and before I became a shadowed weapon. I have changed. Not just in appearance. I feel like an oblivious fool.

I feel flawed. The stitching turns sloppy and viscous.

"My daughter, Neji-kun shall protect you with his life," Her voice stutters with an aching grief and a painted face that matches.

Briefly looking into her eyes I see gathering grief and breathtaking love as if this child was her own. Watching I see her hand slowly start to clutch above her left breast. Her other hand briefly caresses her lower abdomen as if-

Her reaction surprises me, it brings my mind to a whirring chaos, and a gut instinct that pulses with knowing. Coldly I piece the trail of clues to an assumed answer. Once I reach the visioned oasis, I stop. I puppeteer myself to play the role of a concerned child. It feels wrong and calculated and right. As if I am completing a mission. The stitching needle deviates and begins to stab with no forethought.

"Okaa-san, are you okay? You can tell me what is wrong." My girlish voice rung out in concern with only few of the words that I wish to write with my tongue. The words to ask for forgiveness are never voiced.

Tears fall silently and she trembles as her arms reach around to form a warm hug. The stitches of guilt tug and start to tear. Her voice gushes grief and guilt and anger as she reassures me that she is fine. That her tears are ones of happiness. How she cries because her daughter is able to leave and see the world. How beautiful I am.

She spews dripping lies and I tattoo them upon my skin for her as if its the truth she spits. The stitches tear and I bleed. As I bleed, I also puke lies towards her as well, my mind still lingers on the objective: the bond between Hitomi and Neji. I wonder about the truth, others secrets, and the untrustworthy feelings brewed within the clan.

The guilt begins to bleed through those thoughts. The red liquid pulsing and flowing loudly. Each pulse bringing a scream, 'You should care more.' A dam build,s echoing a cold ruthlessness in response. My past and my present self war against one another.

This time my present self wins.

My lingering past self fades away minimally. My present self takes a wavering reign. I focus more on the guilt for another, but I cannot unlatch a chance to uncover a secret.

I knew I was changing, it is inevitable, but I have never considered how much I have changed. I briefly wonder which aspect of myself I prefer more? The weapon sharpened for a superior or the dulled weapon for myself? I cannot find the answer.

Shaking the thoughts from my mind, I hug my Okaa-san tighter.

The high that I attempted to hoard leaves.


	8. Neji

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto
> 
> Have a magical day, dear readers.

After the moment of secret guilt shared within the suffocating lilac walls of my room we left. Feeling the tension dissipate, I leave the moment behind. Letting the questions and thoughts hang of the back drop of my mind. The curios secret could wait to be unearthed, for it paled in comparison towards knowing the compound, the village, and the world I live in. I begin to focus on what surrounds the outside of my walls. I also focus on the people that dwell outside of them as well.

Untrustworthiness brews with the clan. At least enough for Hiashi to send a guards worthy of his trust. Searching I notice the two twin purple-haired guards that regularly stand outside of my door, Riku and Niko, begin to follow us twenty-seven steps behind. The allusion of privacy, but close enough to show protection. Narrowing my eyes I roam them across the passing people. Briefly glancing at the Hyuuga clan members in what seems to be fascination and wonder, I assess their stern demeanor. At my secret assessments of them, I can only gather curiosity, indifference, or meekness towards me. The feeling of meekness towards me alights spinning thoughts and conclusions, some of which point toward the urge to be careful and on guard. The other feelings towards me do not alight such a flame, but they are not disregarded. Brief glances of assessments and my rusted skills may miss minute signs that tell otherwise, but I do not stubbornly pursue those missing/missed tells. I do not have the confidence or skill to see and be unseen in return, a lesson I have learned well in my past. Relying on trusted guards, I shift more of my focus to begin surveying my surroundings.

Looking around from the housing, people, the overall style within the Hyuuga clan, it's as if I am in the earlier periods of Japan. Such as the Auzchi-Momoyama or Edo period? As my eyes roam around more to find anymore reference, inconsistencies begin to be found. Power lines carve a path in the skies, a radio mechanically speaks to its owner, clothes that seem more modern grace some of the younger generation, and more. Disappointment and exasperation cloud my veins. The feeling that while I may find references and similarities of my old world, it will never be anything more. Just references and similarities. Another reason is added to the madness that consumes this world.

Finally I reach the destination, a garden: Rich and beautiful.

The garden is quite grand in scale, tall and wide. Trees and bushes of different types fence off the area with varieties of herbs and flowers strategical place within the confines of wood and leaves. Pathways paved in fresh, cut green grass crave a design through the garden allowing visitors to walk along side natures beauty, instead of through it. Glancing off to the left side, a bench lays covered in a large tree's shadow, decorated with vines, and accompanied by a pond full of lilies. This bright, colourful, serene garden is alive with its own habitat thriving within. Butterflies, dragonflies, toads, and bees, and more dance and sing. It's magical and almost ethereal. A calming warmth fills me, and brings a certain familiarity. I glance to my Okaa-san.

Looking to her, I see a soft delicate woman beaming in fiery pride. A woman that belongs. She glides in the pathways she carved by hand, caressing her art brought to life by her breath, she breathes with her creation. Slowly she walks toward me, slowly she changes the image of a human to that of an elven fairy gracefully stepping in the kingdom she formed. When she reached me, she whispered if I found her garden to my liking. Whispered so soft and melodious as if this seemingly conjured dream will shatter. I gifted her a soft smile with the a serene calm that is induced by her garden. She gifts me the moon with her smile.

"Hinata, we will wait here for our escorts. Play and have fun, my beautiful daughter. I will sit over there." Pointing to the shaded stone bench, she leaves.

As she left towards her selected spot in this haven, I begin to explore it. I walked the paths aligned with flowers and herbs that elude me by name, feeling light, calm, and refreshed. My mind having a much needed reprieve from assaulting thoughts. I have forgotten what it is like to be able to meditate, to be tranquil. Being reborn left me scattered and twisted leaving me no time to just breathe. I missed moments like this, moments of elated peace between being a honed well used weapon, between missions and wars. I close my eyes to appreciate the forgotten tranquil of my past and my present with seconds in the future of this supreme peace. I breathe deeply in the canopy of harmonious songs created in the sanctuary.

Hearing footsteps approaching, I open my eyes to the daylight, clear my mind of man-made nirvana, and assess the intruders. Footsteps synced with a loud carelessness and quite elegance, a man and a boy enter the serene garden I have assimilated too.

A brown haired child of will, shimmering happiness, and breathtaking innocence appears before me. A child who matches the bowing man's aura of quiet strength and comforting kindness that stands beside him. I knew the bowing boy's name in front of me before he could even speak.

"H-hello, Hinata-san, I'm Hyuuga Neji and I will take care of you and-and protect you forever. I promise. Also I am your older cousin...by like a year, so yeah. I have to protect you a-and I want to. I want to protect you. Promise." His clear boyish voice rang in childish innocence and promises that match with the puff up of his skinny chest and a small right hand place in front of it like a proud soldier. All this accompanied by a wide smile that holds a clear sky in his teeth, surrounded by reddening cheeks, and brightening eyes that mirror mine.

"Oh and Hyuuga-sama. Hi Hyuuga-sama, how are you?" He deflates and the hand he placed upon his chest moves to the side of his smiling face, beginning to wave rapidly in enthusiasm.

"Oh Neji-kun, I am wonderful and you? Also how many times must I tell you to call me Hitomi-chan? Hmmm." Okaa-san's voice and body envelopes in a warm fondness, slight amusement, and serene happiness as she approaches in a elegant step.

The only respond the reddening boy could give is a shrug, smaller smile, and a scratch to the back of his neck in embarrassment. She responses in that addicting soft laughter. The man beside Neji speaks in fondness and an undertone of warmth towards her.

"Ah Hitomi-san,' He bows low, elegant, and slow.

"My son only ever responds to you in that way to show his respect." Rising from his bow I can see the barely guarded feelings that look to match his tone.

"I know Hizashi-san and I am simply proud for it, but as I have said before, there is no need." Her smile slowly softens as she speaks before the man.

She then waves her delicate hand towards the ever vigilant guards as a sign to leave. They disappear in a smoke of leaves. My widening eyes, tensing posture, and a step away from the act accompanies the sound of amazement from Neji. The thought of unrealism forms until Okaa-san calmly brushes my right side with her hand. A look of understanding sets on her face. Unconsciously moving closer to her, I slowly create thoughts of logic to explain this act, forcing myself to use the logic of this world: Chakra, jutsus, shinobi. Another tally mark, another question, more strain weathers my psyche.

A caress of my left cheek, Okaa-san guides me to look at her. She smiles with concern darkening her eye, my response is only a soft nod and a stretching shy smile. A nod back, her hand lingers before she leaves my side to converse with Hizashi. I gather myself for the present. Though I never truly un-tense.

A deep breathe leaves me, I am grounded once more. I become focused.

With both of their postures signifying familiarity and fondness they begin to converse among each other. Me and the boy seemingly forgotten, but the slight glance from my Okaa-san tells otherwise. I suppose this is a given opportunity to become familiar with Neji. Though seeing her lock eyes with Hizashi, gives a glance to a more selfish reasoning. Turning towards my older cousin, who shamelessly watches the adults, I fake a look of wonderment towards him all the while still observing the adults.

Drinking up the interaction before me only seems to magnify my feelings towards the relationship between my Okaa-san and Neji. Though flitting my eyes between her and Neji's father gathers more pieces towards an ever clearing picture. Part of me thinks of how open they are, how easily the same assumptions can be made, I fear the consequences. I question how oblivious or calculating others are. Another part darkens the corners of my mind of how easy this is, almost boring. How I could easily extract any kind of information from them if this is truly how open they are, but I would need time to assess if my first thought is right, analyze every aspect of their character, formulate a plan, and then go in for the kill. The dissipated guilt returns and a shiver within my mind forms from how cold I became towards family. A part of me whispers how lucky they were to be at least cared about. Another whisper echos through the caverns of my mind of how weak I have become. The garden around me begins to darken in my vision and the harmonious sounds slowly die.

A boyish voice that seeps warmth and embarrassment breaks my thoughts.

"Ooooh I am sooooo sorry Hina-chan! Can I call you Hina-chan?" Wide eyes with forgetting thoughts that snap behind them, he questions me in an almost overwhelming enthusiasm. I slowly nod at his question as I continue to break the rest of my dark thoughts to dust.

"Cool cool! Anyway Hina-chan, I am sorry, what did ya say about how you are feeling? I kinda forgot, but Hyuu- I mean Hitomi-san was here and-and well..." A scratch upon his blushing left cheek, he starts to look increasingly shy towards me as the rest of his sentence trails off.

A smile of amusement begins to adorn my face the longer I watch him. I answer his question with a soft simple "Good, how about you Neji-san?"

His shy smile quickly changes to an exuberant happiness. He edges closer towards me.

" I'm good, really good. I am so happy to finally meet you, Hina-chan. I heard all about you from my Otou-san. Hyuu-, ahhh Hitomi-san, and even Hyuuga-sama, the other one." The ending of his sentence whispered rather loudly into my ear as his hand covers the side of his face that can be seen from the older Hyuugas. His face conveys a child-ly sly look.

Lifting the side of my lips upwards is my only response. A response the kid seems content with as his face beams with joy. Then he begins to watch me, open and shamelessly. It amuses me.

His eager eyes vigorously traces my form. His smile stretches even more. A slight bounce from the back of the heel heaves his body up and down betraying a static pent up energy. His Otou-san gently places a strong hand upon his green yukata clad shoulder to ground the eager puppy of a boy. I crane my head upwards to glimpse at the exact replica of Hiashi. I could see unguarded warmth of love within the man's eyes.

Surprisingly jealousy does not even prick me at the display. No, not even a slight caress from its green smothering slick. Not like it did in the past. Not where I watched with darkening eyes at the other children who unconsciously grabbed at their parents outstretched fingers. A sign of safety and love. Something I did not have, could not fathom. I stood in my own shadows watching alone of what I could have had if I was not born within that family. Instead amusement and slight affection shift underneath my skin and I selfishly welcome the change the boy brings. Perhaps, I think, is because I now know what it is liked to be loved by my own blood now.

A dark thought creeps forwardly speaking in a sickening tone. Its slithering tongue stamping words of how foolish I am being, how I already trust one to many: my Okaa-san. It infects me, seductively whispering to act as needed and gather succulent facts to my ever growing web. Like a puppet on strings I obey with no struggle. They are not so precious to me to struggle with using them. The amusement and slight affection disappear within me, only outwardly did it stay.

"Hello, Hizashi-san. I am honored to have you and Neji-san as my escorts for this evening. Thank you and please take care of me." I bow in a sign of respect towards them.

Time to truly see inside the village I live in. The village Hiashi has educated me about: Konohagakure, the village hidden within the leaves.

My present self falters, losing grip of the crown. My past self takes a iron hold reign.


	9. Konohagakure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Still do not own Naruto
> 
> Notes: More building of character, her past, and her old world. Also, I hope I did pre-traumatized kid Neji justice. Also also, as always, enjoy.
> 
> Have a day full of magic and imagination, fellow humans.

As the ornate wooden gates of the Hyuuga compound closed, a new world shifted before my vision. Dirt pathways straight and curved and wide, direct the various people roaming about. Far away buildings of bright white, red, brown, and green scattered and cluster through the village hidden in the leaves. Humongous tall trees can be seen surrounding the village, as well as infest the inner village, proud and vast. As I focus my line of sight to the right, a rocky mountain towers over the hidden village, carved with four masculine faces adorning it. The carved mountain seems reminiscent of Mount Rushmore, a sculpture depicting the four U.S. Presidents. Staring I wonder if this is Konoha's version, this village's four 'presidents' or Hokages, as they are called in this world. Sandaime, the third, is the current hokage of Konohagakure. I catalog his depicted face, ignoring the fact an older man wears it now. I rather know what the current leader of the hidden village, at least, looks like or have some reference point. Better to be knowledgeable than ignorant. Ignorance is not bliss.

"Oh Hinata, I see The Hokage Rock has caught your eye." Reverence encased Okaa-san's tone as she spoke those words.

Bending down to my eye level, letting her eyes fall upon the rocky mountain she continued, "Did you know that this monument was envisioned by the Shodai, Senju Hashirama, as a symbol to let all know, that the hokages will always watch over the village and its people?"

As her question ended she casts a heavy gaze towards me. Her eyes spoke of pride, reverence, and importance. I shook my head to signal such missed knowledge. I have learned about The Hokage Rock, but only of the importance that the sculpture has depicted this village's past and present hokages, not the symbol or hope it brings. Her eyes creased and her painted cherry lips frowned in displeasure, a slight nod given in acknowledgment before standing to her full height. Her passionate red kimono decorated with pink, blue, and yellow flowers glinted in the bright sun and moved with the cool wind.

"Ah, well perhaps your Otou-san has plans to teach you of such things later within your education. If not..." More of a downward turn acted on her lips as her voice took strained irritation.

"If not then the academy shall surly teach you, but we did not come here to discuss your academics, Hinata. We have all come here today to explore this wonderful village we live in." With a slight pat upon my head she turn to face my escorts for the day, Hizashi and Neji.

"So Hizashi-san and Neji-kun, what have you planned for us today?" Her face took on a calm, serene expression as she addressed the two males.

"I have planned on escorting the both of you to the market, even perhaps to the Yamanaka flower shop. Afterwards I believed we could head to the Floating Leaf to relax and eat. Would this accommodate you, Hitomi-san?" Hizashi questioned as he brought the excited Neji to his side with a strong, gentle grab.

"This quite accommodates me, Hizashi-san. Thank you, come Hinata, lets explore Konohagakure." A delicate smile was aim towards me, the irritation of earlier seemingly forgotten before she motioned our escorts with a slight nod of her head.

Hizashi nodding back in conformation before bending down to speak quietly to his son. Words spoke and none were heard. Only the sounds of Neji's confirmations were heard past the fleeting wind. A slight push on the boy's shoulder, Neji trailed towards me with a smile full of bright teeth, holding confidence and pride. The older man, clad in a blue yukata stood elegantly, then turned, walking in a sedating pace in front of us. Okaa-san came to walk side-by-side to the older man while Neji did the same with me.

"Don't worry Hina-chan, I'm going to tell you all about...well, everything." Leaning a bit forward, turned awkwardly to face my eyes, he continued.

"Sooo..." A look of determined concentration fell on his face as he attempted to formulate some thought of how to educate me. I waited patiently, keeping my eyes roaming the surroundings, and begin mapping out the area.

I noted that the compound is somewhat secluded, especially in what seems to be around the center of the village. Smalls trees, vines, and bushes surround the clan walls for aesthetic, but no buildings, even houses or small shops were rooted within a marginally distance. I can see buildings surrounding the Hyuuga clan, but it is far enough away that I cannot see in full detail. An odd sight. But then, again, this is not my world. This may be a bustling city, but this is in an maddening chakra filled world. Technology does not run rampant, building are not made of harden glass and metal, the people are fully human as well. No technology lives inside them, no wondering what is left human.

Shaking the thoughts of the past from my head, my pace slows and I begin to truly focus once more.

Following the path to the markets, after hitting an apartment, Oaken Roots, buildings of various shops to small inns and a single busy bar, Poison sells, suddenly flooded the area. A few houses here and there filled the gaps between the settled places within this area. A canopy of chatter fills the area just as suddenly. People rushed and bustled, or leisurely paced around. Crowed yet not. There is still space to move about somewhat freely, without the constant conscious effort of having to avoid contact with another person.

"Ah Hina-chan, this is kinda the to- tour-rist district, that's what tou-san said anyway. 'We will walk through'...this district, he said, then we'll hit the markets, then those other places a-and yeah. Anyways this is the district. How do you like it?" A look of expectancy flooded his eyes and face as he again look towards me. Unconsciously, clumsily, and barely dodging any people happening upon his space.

"Its busy." Deliberating looking around once more in 'wonder,' I gave him a simple answer, but accurate. I have never liked crowed places, even if it can provide excellent cover.

A flash a uncanny intelligence flashed through his white eyes, as a concerned look passed quickly through his features, "There is gonna be even more people Hina-chan. When we get to the markets, so much more. You will bump into people, unless you are my tou-san, but your not..." I watched him look towards the ground in his solid childish logic and unneeded sadness for me.

Watching him I took the time to add to my assessment of his character, above average intelligence and perception. A genius, perhaps this is one of the reasons he will become my permanent escort when he grows to satisfaction, for Hiashi. A cute genius kid. Neji is hard not to like. I am found to be a genius as well, perhaps cute too, though none of it is real. At least in this life. All of it is fake, I am a fake, but the boy isn't. I hope this world leaves him unscathed, no matter how unrealistic it is. Being a genius gets you recognize. Though intentions are usually filled with greed and selfishness. I became recognized in this life for myself to be used, and the user as well. Unlike him I have lived this type of life before. I learned.

I am selfish.

"I will be fine Neji-san, I will." A lie.

"You can call me Neji-kun, Hina-chan okay? And alright, but if you don't feel well tell me okay? I gotta protect you Hina-chan and I promised. I won't break my promise, that's bad and mean." The boy looks toward me again, again filled with childish promise and determination. I foolishly hope for the boy.

"Okay Neji-s-kun, okay." I give him a fake smile.

He believes it, as his own smile widens at the use of his name. We continue to walk toward the market district.


	10. Konohagakure - Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto
> 
> Note: Welp, here it is. Yamanaka's next chapter. I wrote this. Yeah.
> 
> Have a great day and watch out for the Nargles readers.

The Konoha market district is loud. The canopy of chatter that filled the tourist district seems like a whisper compared to the level of noise floating through the air around the markets. Noise made up with excitement, demands, bargaining, and the dull lull of basic needs being bought. It was overwhelming. I have grown use to a calm, cold, quite. Not a warm, unpredictable, recklessness that consumes the market.

Overwhelmed, but a part of me misses this, the crowded noise that dominate the senses and the people that brush together, the constant vigilance needed to at least avoid a body check. I miss this like one would scrounge up memories to find the moments spent with something long gone. A blink and the world shines and blinds with glass, metal buildings, and sleek clothes of black, gray, and white. The people become attached with various pieces of technology, skin turns shiny and new and unrealistic, adorned with hair slicked and tight and stiff. Woman glittered and highlighted with bright lips, and the men trimmed, clean, and cut with a polished shine. Organized, similar, and stiff like the metal covering the ground and skies. Individuality did not come from appearance in my world. At least the old one.

A blink and the new world pieces together and dulls the gleam of metallic shine. Instead it brightens the air with colors dark and light, bright and dull. Individuality and personality is broadcast through appearance. It's different, a little bit lovely, and all at the same time, brings an uncomfortable magnitude that I am in a different place. I am not me. I died. Am I even considered truly alive?

"Hina-chan, you okay? Do you like it? Is it too loud?" Rapid-fire questions from a loud boy, filled and drowned my head.

Like a complicated mechanically wired program I spoke in a soft shy tone, "I am fine, Neji-kun. Yes, I do seem to like the market place." If only for the colors, if only for the nostalgic sense it brings.

"And yes the district is loud, but that is fine. I just need some time to adjust. I am fine Neji-kun." Another lie poisoned my throat and tongue as the words left, but again the concerned child believed my false words and face of shy, overwhelmed, yet content mask.

"Alright, Hina-chan. So, this is the market district. The best district. You can buy all sorts of things and stuff. It's great." His words were full of confidence in his logic and knowledge as if he were a wondering hermit educated and wise in all things.

I nod and give a soft smile that is blinding and stitched to look a certain way. He accepts and smiles, real and comforting, again he believes. Yet, he steps closer and brushes his shoulder with mine. The uncanny intelligence gleams brightly in his eye as he takes in the crowd and the noise. He looks toward me with remembrance of a conversation from the tourist district of 'There is gonna be even more people Hina-chan.' He moves his hand and fits it into mine. I tense, he softens his smile and grips my hand a bit more firmer in an act of caring and comfort. I almost forget to breathe.

Neji then whispers 'that it will be okay,' 'that if I don't want to do this he will take me away.' I do not say anything, to busy looking at our interlocked hands, how it feels real and safe and warm like family. Its brings my mind into unending chaos. I have never had my hand held before. I have never felt the affection it brings. Warm and fitting like pieces of a puzzle. Pieces that do not belong together, yet, fit and work and create an art worth more than money can buy. Its terrifying.

A small swing with our intertwined fingers the boy scrapes whats left of my conscious to the present, enough to listen, enough to understand. "Hey Tou-san, can we go somewhere else? I'm worried about Hina-chan. She doesn't like crowds." Another slight swing mimicking that of a pendulum made of flesh and bone. Another pile of scrapes form to bring more consciousness to the forefront of my mind, still not enough to form coherent thought. Still not enough to stop the fiery cold chaos whirring in the confines of my mind.

"Of course Neji-kun, it seems I should have slowly introduced young Hinata-san to the outside world. Gomenasia, Hitomi-sama. I have overwhelmed your daughter." Like a puppet on wired, cutting strings I looked toward the bowing man before my Okaa-san. Apology and regret shadow his youthful face.

A slight tsking sound left plump lips, only to be accompanied by a fretting sigh. I could feel eyes on me. Another slight swing was elicited. Another firm squeeze of a warm, sweaty hand. Another pile of scrapes builds my repairing consciousness. I almost feel functioning.

"Please Hizashi-san, there is no need to bow or apologize. It is not your fault. Of that I assure you, please there is no need. Come, let us go to the Yamanaka's Flower shop. It is quite peaceful, less crowded as well.' A delicate soft hand fell upon my shoulder. A squeeze brought my unfocused gaze to the worried picture of my okaa-san. 'Besides, Inoichi-sama should be there today.' Her grip turned a bit harder. 'If needed he can help. He is quite well-versed in such things."

A slight push commanded my body to mechanically walk toward the new destination. Her hand never left my shoulder. The shadowed Hizashi of worry and regret lead the way. Neji never let go of my cold hand.

Another swing. Another pile added to the building hill. A firm grip never wavering. Another swing.

I have never had my hand held. I have never felt so warm and cuddled with affection like this. Affection like this, affection with no ulterior motives or lies. I have never had my hand held.

My past self burns and cowers. My present self stills. No one takes the jagged crown.


	11. Yamanaka Flowers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto
> 
> Note: So I can see that pre-traumatized, kid Neji resembles Naruto. But do not fret, it was somewhat intended. Neji, right now, is a kid, like two years old. Also he does not act this way around other members of the Hyuuga clan, especially with Hiashi. Don't worry the easy, affectionate relationship between Neji and Hitomi will be explained/explored. Unless you deduced the reason why. I am not good at mystery/thriller. My bad. Neji will develop to his liken canon character of the series. one day, but today is not the day!
> 
> Also more background for Oc!Hina-chan! More development for her. Too. I think. And shit is about to go down! At least in a way. I need to ease into this all sneaky like. Ya know. Ninja like.
> 
> Also, also I know Hizashi is just hanging in the background. He will come into play more often as the story progresses. Right now he is letting his son take the reigns in escorting Hina-Hina. Giving Neji experience with his destined role.
> 
> Think positive thought, readers. We don't want a Wrackspurt infestation.

In front of a pastel yellow building lined with mahogany wood, I stand. Still hand-in-hand with the concerned brown-haired boy beside me. Still in company of the boy's father. I watched, detached, when okaa-san gilded with purpose into the open mahogany archway of the flower shop. The wind disturbing the stillness of the bright and healthy rooted plants in ceramic pots, placed in front of the shop. Another swing and I resembled that of a human in consciousness.

Feeling the air feather across my skin and cooling my heated covered hand, I breathe more life within me. The fresh, clean air filled with naturally floral scents rushed through my nose and filled my lungs. I can breathe. I can think.

"Are you better now Hina-chan? Everyone was really scared about you, really really scared." A tightening grip of a warm, sweaty hand with a wavering childish voice brought my gaze to sharpen and focus to its creator.

Misty, near-identical eyes looked into mine. A lip usually fixed upward filled with confidence and joy, now quivering, tilted downwards towards the earthen dirt ground. The familiar feeling of guilt is injected in my veins. While the poisonous guilt courses through my blood, a cold rotting shadow fills the cracks in my head. I make home with the shadows. I act and lie. As usually. I ignore how my blood begins to rush and burn with guilt.

A soft squeeze of my interlocked hand, my face morphs from a detached confusion into a shy, overwhelmed girl. I speak with a voices that matches, "Gomen Neji-kun, I did not mean to scare you. I was suddenly overwhelmed. Please, gomen." Slipping my heated hand from his, I gave a bow.

Straightening back up, I see a scrunched and reddening face of worry, embarrassment, and childish pride. " Ah Hina-chan, I wasn't that scared just... I wasn't scared. But tou-san and Hitomi-san were scared. I wasn't though, really, I can't be.' By the end his voice softened to a whisper. His face angled towards the ground and his hands clenched by his sides, tight and hard.

Bringing his right arm up he wipes his eyes, angles his face filled only with worry towards me, and continues to speak. His voice barely above a whisper, "So don't do that again Hina-chan. Okay? I gotta protect you and...' His words trailed off as he stared towards the ground again. A re-tightening of his hands, the wind picked up. His voice carried with it, but no words were heard.

Soft, near silent steps reached my straining ears. A soft hand appeared, being placed gently upon the boy's tense shoulders. The action elicited Neji to look towards his tou-san. Silent communication passed between them and whatever was received caused the boy to loosen and brighten slowly. The older man's grip loosened, but never fell. The boy then looked at me, creating two steps towards me. As the distance shortens his hand seeks mine. Warm and affectionate.

"Your my cousin Hina-chan and I gotta protect you." A firm squeeze from his hand as his white eyes pointer at mine.

Eyes that held such readable emotion. Another squeeze, a wider smile and he lets go. Encrypted information was sent directly into my gaze, mimicking what was done to him a few moments ago. Perhaps countless time before that. I did not understand his encryption. I did not own his cipher's key. I did not understand the coded familial affection, I do not think I ever will. But, still I try to decode what was written with eyes in silence. I blank. I can read his emotions clearly, but I cannot understand what is written with them, what is written between the lines. I do not know what message poetically lies in his gaze. It is a puzzle that no logic or inexperience can penetrate. He continues to stare, as if he knows I do not understand.

A hushed feminine voice broke my useless attempts of breaking an impossible code. From the mahogany archway emerges my okaa-san with a tall man. The tall man is distinct by his long-straight ash-blonde hair, held on top of his skull in a ponytail accompanied with the same hued spikes. A black cloth is tied around his forehead, with Konohagakure's symbol, like the guards that shadow the door of my room. This man is a soldier, shinobi. His pupil-less blue eyes scan me and my accompaniment. The man's face is the picture of soft concern, yet my hackles raise pointed and sharp. His intense, calculating gaze falls and stays on me. I keep the playing my created part.

I feel pricked and cut open, as if all my secrets, everything I am, is study, examined, and coldly picked apart to bring an accurate assessment and profile of my character. This feeling is accompanied by a strong urge to camouflage my fur and feathers and scales to an impenetrable act. The will to survive awakens within me. My gut twists in action, stamping the feeling that he knows I am more than what I seem.

My past shelf shakes off the burns of cowardice. My past self takes the jagged crown. In burnt bloody hands, the kingdom turns into freezing shadows. The shadowy tendrils consumes everything in an inky black with a sheen of ice forming from within. My present self becomes chained and frozen.

He slowly comes towards me, his smile softening in a play of concern before he bends down on one knee towards my height. A mastered craftsmen in the art of deception. I know and see because I had been as well, perfectly mastered craftsmen in the old world. A top predator, a keen, sharp, and useful weapon, I was used endlessly for it.

Like me he is a predator. Like me he knows.

A predator always know another one. Always.

"Hello Hinata-chan. My name is Yamanaka Inoichi, pleased to meet you."

Watch out for Chameleon, for she hides in plain sight, she can become you, now she is you. Watch out for Chameleon for you will never know you are dead and gone. Watch out, little insects, her tongue can twist and turn in all ways as you become slowly poisoned. She can enter your mind through acted words or sharp knifes. You'll spill your blood and guts and you will do it willingly. Watch out she belongs to us, The Royal Regime.


	12. Yamanaka Flowers - Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto
> 
> Notes: Sorry it took so long to upload a new chapter. Twas sick. I still am but doing alot better. Woot. Anyways hope y'all like it. Also more notes at the end.
> 
> Have a amazing tubular life, my dudes.

Feeling the jagged crown rest in my past-self's hands with no contenders reaching greedily for the melted metal, I begin to feel whole. Less of a cheap imitation, more of the true painted picture that I was. All I needed was a seen threat. Not one known and unseen, not one conjured in my mind's eye late into the night when vulnerable and broken, not one whispered in passing. I needed a threat that I can gaze upon. I can feel. I can smell. I needed the threat that Yamanaka Inoichi poses. And the threat he poses creates so many possibilities and outcomes, none of which would ever be truly in my favor.

Feeling the anticipation course and thump through my blood. I become my old self. I truly become me. The shatter mosaic of my mind melds itself together in the beautiful foreboding image that it was created in. In red, black, gray, and my order's color of wine purple. I mold and shift and shed my sickly skin of tattered scales.

I am Anat. The Chameleon. A weapon of The Royal Regime. The Regime's favored poison dagger.

I am sharpened on whet stone. I barley feel.

Barley looking in the man's eye, I shift my pose slowly inward to myself. My cheeks redden, eyes flicker between the ashen blonde and Hitomi. A small step back and toward Hitomi, my flickering gaze favors her. I act and look the part of a increasingly shy girl looking for the strength of her Okaa-san in face of a stranger. A girl who became overwhelmed in the face of a large crowd, a girl who is quiet, a girl who is overall overwhelmed in this new world she has just seen for the first time.

A child who looks up toward her Okaa-san, her everything, for strength and love. I am the girl that uses Hitomi, my Okaa-san, as a conduit for my own strength. The only reason I was not so introverted in my anxiousness and fear when confronted by family trusted and loved and accepted by her Okaa-san.

My gaze acts pleading for strength at the woman. My gaze also begins to wander toward Neji and Hizashi in familiarity. I see the barely restrained protectiveness of Neji, I feel the calm and quiet aura of Hizashi as he moves toward me in the attempt of playing the role of guardian, I see the small painted red smile of Hitomi and her nodded support. I act in use of this to greet the man before me.

"H-he-hello Yamanaka-sama, I-i am H-hyuuga Hinata. Pl-pleased to m-meet you." My tone is soft, my voices stutters with an anxious shyness of meeting an unknown stranger. My body becomes more inward on to its self as my arms warp around the middle like a shield against myself and him. My eyes barely meet his.

My foot moves in an acted attempt to move forward with meek courage towards the flaxen man, only to stop in its movement. I feel the scripted tears mist my eyes.

"Gomen nasia." was whispered breathy and so soft and quiet I could barley hear it. I drowned the word with my embarrassment of my shyness and nerves. It was not to be heard but seen to bring more belief for my act in this play.

Feeling a flowing calm in aura and the warmth of another person beside me I look up and see Hizashi. An ounce of pity lingered in his eyes as he attempted a small comforting smile to a girl barely known yet sworn to protect. I knew he believed my scripted lines. My gut also written in a tangled mess that he had heard me. I believed its scrambling oracle like words. The feeling of knowing brought from inside of flesh and bone and covered in blood has yet to prove itself wrong. All I need is to understand and follow.

The somewhat prophetic feeling is proven right as the man who seems to embody the energy of hard fought tranquility gave a nod of sympathy for me only to then stand before the florist and bow.

"Ah gomen nasia Yamanaka-san, I did not mean to bring you into our affairs like this. I have seemed to overwhelm the heiress of my clan and let Hyuuga-sama come to implore for your help." Lifting himself from the deep bow, his face is sketched in small forgiveness. Not overwhelming nor too muted in taste.

"There is no need for apology Hizashi-san, I would be honored to help the heiress of the Hyuuga clan. Also there is no need for an apology, as well, Hinata-chan. It is quite common in situations like yours to become overwhelmed and anxious. Besides there is nothing wrong with becoming shy towards someone you barley know." His hands went up and besides his youthful face. Waving in an comforting and dismissive manner toward our apologies. His voice light with a smile.

"Anyways why don't we all come inside the shop and out of the sun. Cool off. Perhaps look at some of the flowers in the shop, eh, Hinata-chan?' The man's smile warmed his youthful face as he begins to stand towards his shop. 'Maybe even Neji-kun can join us?" Tone shifted to a light playfulness, Inoichi slightly turns his neck to look at the abhorred boy. His smile softens and his blue eyes lighten in a way it would not with me. Like a parent to a child. When affection clouds and surrounds the body. Easy and familiar.

His offer is one of kindness to include the forgotten boy. The boy forgotten to attempt to appease an heiress.

The look of disgust on the child's face towards the offer flickered off as soon as it was seen. Red bled into his cheeks and the boy's eyes widen in a variety of emotions. His emotions are worn brightly upon his heart as if there is an man behind a camera demanding realness for his work of art. The man that bleeds photography needs the boy's true emotions or the picture will never be anything other than fake and ugly. Snap. Snap. Snap. Neji's mouth moves with words written only to be erased as soon as the graphite glides across its attended space. No words vocalized carry with the cool wind.

"Neji will be with me.' Hizashi spoke as he motions his son with a beckoning hand. The beckoned boy rushes to his Otou-san. The relief palpable for the both them. "Let the heiress spend some time with her Okaa-san without her escorts by her side. We will be around the shop, of course. " Hizashi nods to the florist as he stands still to be given a sign to enter the man's shop. Neji stands by his Otou-san's side with an attempt to imitate the man, the imitation of calm and emotionless falls short as he smiles, soft and quick, and places his hand in mine.

I do not quiver with cowardice. I do not wonder at the boy's misplaced affection. I do not marvel and wish for it either. On the inside I do not feel a sliver of affection back nor do I feel that familiarizing guilt stitching and cutting into me. All I feel is cold calculation and the chance to use the boy's unknown given opportunity. I seize it.

Though there is a staggering amount of relief coupled with rare joy coursing through my blood. His action and my true yet hidden reaction only confirms my belief. I am not a broken, useless weapon anymore.

With eyes watching the interaction of me and the other small, young child I play with the hand dealt to me. My small and delicate body aligns with confidence as my back straightens and my arms that were used as a weak defense curled into the middle of my torso fall. My face alights with a sketch and believable smile that writes the story of a shy girl gaining strength from the affection and support her older cousin brings. A girl who has found a hero to look up too. To be.

I squeeze the boy's hand and followed my self-writing script, I look up to the hunter who smelled my deceit from the beginning. " I-i... I would love to see your f-fl...flowers, Inoichi-sama." With a few pauses in my sentence to show a girl trying to correct her error to appear as confident as her, I also let my gaze waver between Inoichi's eyes and nose.

At the end I glance to Hitomi to see her soft and proud smile of her little girl. She gives her nod of acceptance which adds a more fuel to the fire of my playing act. The girl slowly becomes the one seen when only family is watching.

I send my gaze back to the accessing blues of Inoichi. It stays with a growing amount of confidence. The girl is not alone. This girl has support.

With a nod and a few more words spoken between the adults we enter the florist's territory.

The game of deceit continues between two hunters accompanied by oblivious spectators.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More Notes: I know my character has a different personality going on, but hopeful the chapter explained why. I did show a peak of this personality in earlier chapters, just now... well... it has finally come out in full play. Kinda excited. My Oc definitely is not a hero.


	13. Yamanaka Flowers - Part 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto
> 
> Note: Woot another chapter down and the longest one! Accomplishment! Let me know how y'all like it. Also let me know if I have gotten anything wrong with the Japanese words I have put in this chapter. Or anything wrong in general. I hope they are correct. More notes at the end. Also, warning, this is definitely an AU. I suck at writing notes. Sorry.
> 
> Have an spectacular life, people.

"As always, you have such magnificent flowers Inoichi-san,' Hitomi's naturally soft voice rings throughout the inside of the shop, a sweet excitement saturates her tone. Her steps become slightly faster than my own on the grayish stone floor, her walk is punctuated with a slight skip almost every five steps. 'and, of course, I find myself drawn to purchase more for my garden." Glancing towards her sweetening voice, I see her face alight with liveliness and untold joy.

Hitomi's face brightens the more steps we take towards the center of the floral paradise. Vibrant green overflows and catches the attention of the onlookers and within its mist buds bright colors beckoning and hypnotizing its victims to take and call their own. The only grace from the its floral and vibrant pull is how organized Yamanaka Inoichi seems to be. The plants are organized into labeled sections from flowers to herbs and within each main section, the section branches off into other smaller parts. Each section is straight and symmetrical to the neighboring one and the plants are confined neatly in the squared and smooth wood of walnut, with the pathways between are wide and unobstructed for the passing potential buyers. All this tucked neatly within the flax yellow walls of the immaculately clean shop.

"Ah Hitomi-san, I would not object if you were to find yourself purchasing some more flowers for your beautiful garden." A genuine smile spread across the older man's face as he conversed with the Hyuuga matriarch. His steps slow, silent and unheard as his body generates a personable persona that yells and draws the eye towards him. A contradiction that goes unnoticed to most.

"Which reminds me, Hitomi-san, we have finally been able to find a few Higanbana (Red Spider Lilly). Correct me if I am wrong but were you not looking for those exact flowers a few weeks ago. I was about to send you a letter to confirm your request, but...well" A sheepish smile began to sketch itself on the male's face as his left hand scratched the back of his head and the lids of the Yamanaka's eyes curtained white and blue. The picture of sheepish embarrassment is presented.

"Oh truly?" The words sprang froth from painted lips, coated with dripping excitement. An unsubtle glance to the right to look for the prized chalice of red for her ethereal garden. The gleaming red in the midst of green is not found. The green is stroked with small and singular captivating colors of all but the stroke of Higanbana's delicate brush.

Another glance directing left, the delicate red flowers shines a small space between a sea of blinking purple and white, Suitopi (Sweet Pea) and Kiku (Chrysanthemum). Off White eyes of the Hyuuga matriarch glistened in reverence and unmistakable love toward the flowers. A soft release of air excited her upturned lips.

It was as if Hitomi had found a God.

"Oh, Inoichi-san, they are breathtaking. It has been such a long time and to think such a simple request for you to have them within a few weeks..." A soft pain flitted and planted itself within her eyes, as tears gathered in the corners.

"Hignabanas were my Okaa-san's favorite. How can I ever repay you?" Her eyes swayed into the blue gaze of the man as her words dripped with a nostalgic pain and love.

Hitomi had found her mother.

"There is no need to repay me, Hitomi-san. All I have done is follow a simple request from one of my beloved customers. Please, see if the flowers are to your liking, take your time." With a soft smile and piercing pupil-less eyes the man took a small step back, freeing more of the view of Hitomi's red prize.

Hitomi's off-white gaze stuttered between the equinox flower and her accompaniment. A bite and drag of her lips in guilt and nerves she spoke, "Inoichi-san, can you watch Hinata while I check the Higanbanas? It will only be a moment and this will...perhaps give you the time to talk to Hinata alone. To have the chance to get to know one another, seeing as I have a fixation of your shop that holds the most healthy and beautiful flowers I have seen...you both shall see each other quite a lot." Another bitten bottom lip and a wring of her manicured hands, the matriarch is a wired string of chaotic nerves.

"I believe that would be a perfect idea, don't you agree Hinata-chan?" A soft question look sketched itself onto to older man's face as he bent to my level with one knee.

My persona allowed only a soft nod, mute movements stringed with shyness, and a look towards Hitomi full of a wish for her acceptance and pride. She delivered her response in a smile and a soft kiss upon my forehead behind my blue-tinted locks. I acted upon her grace in a meek courage to meet the man's eyes. His vibrant color clashes against my fading color.

I offer the shinobi a small smile. He retaliates with one of his own.

The Hyuuga matriarch offers a bow and deep thanks toward the Yamanaka patriarch. Once Inoichi responds in kind to her thanks, Hitomi turns towards the red prize and leaves.

Perhaps she will find peace in the delicate thin petals of the Higanbanas that to her, represent a mock life of her Okaa-san.

As the delicate woman leaves, a tension only palpable between the blonde shinobi and I rises. Our self-created scripts are still followed strictly and our acts still intact and believable for wandering eyes and listening ears.

Inoichi starts.

"Hinata-chan, may I ask you something?" His voice drips with honey in a slow pour of his words as his face and language of body is positioned to appear open, caring, and safe.

How practiced, experienced, and assured this man is in his art of deceit. He flows in grace and strength of movement and each 'hit' is accurate and damaging to his unfortunate opponent. And I just as assuredly flow into my act to execute an obstacle for my own means.

Hit. Dodge. Hit. Dodge.

I begin to nod only to stop mid-way, I let my face fall in self disappointment before letting a soft determination seize my body. Determined to act just like my Okaa-san and my dear older cousin. In this persona my family is my strength. Love can conquer all.

With a small glare directed at the floor, I breathe a childish little huff before I turn to stare at the florist with my decided determination. "O-of-f...Of course, Y-ya...Yamanaka-sama." A few mistakes in the flow of a cheap imitation of confidence in my sentence with a wavering tone of courage, I step back in a show of disappointment. I let my hair curtain and shield me as I barely gaze at the man, flickering back and froth from him to the shiny stone ground.

"Why thank you Hinata-chan. I wonder if you have a favorite flower? I do." His calm voice filled with a bit of charm and wonder as he continues to look at me. His gaze looks soft, welcoming, and that of a charmed adult, yet my instinct to survive and adapt claws at my throat and veins as his blue orbs emits a iciness that would freeze and crack even the strongest metals. A part of me wishes to be able to show my hand. To be able to emit that exact gaze back into the eyes of the hunter of the same hunt. To freeze and crack and shatter. Yet I can't.

Not if I wish to continue this game, to continue to breathe fresh air unrestrained, or even to have the ability to breathe. Unlike him I am at a disadvantage, several. All I can do is play the script I have given myself in an foolish mistake. The mistake to be caught off guard from a simple gesture of an unknown affection. To spiral and loose myself in wonderment and an ounce of need. How foolish I was, even before, when I just reborn. Broken and hateful and frightened and confused. I will not make that mistake again, nor will I be that emotional mess before I had found a reason to became the made thing that I am now.

So, for now, I continue to play the shy girl overwhelmed from a new world and the inhabitants living within it. A world apart from her own. No longer is this girl in a gilded cage surrounded by the only familiar things in it, family and her own thoughts. For now I will continue until I can grow into a different role or the chance for something to happen that will allow a believable change in personality for the doll I have made.

I continue to move my own strings.

I lift my head to face the flaxen-blonde man, my face sketched in a shy curiosity in wonderment of what his favorite flower could be. I pinched eyebrows draw the answer out of the man.

"Ume (Japanese Apricot), My favorite flowers is the Ume., the flower of elegance, nobility, and patience.' Inoichi poured sugar within his words in a constant and calm motion as they slid into the air around us. Then patience left his lips. The word did not break his steady rhythm nor did it slither and crack his mask, but the was more meaning behind that one word without any notion towards a meaning. Its written itself among the rubble of my veins and spoke cutting steel within my blood. Only I received this message, he would not allow anything other than that. Nor would it. He is impeccable.

No matter how long it will take, in the end, he will win.

Patience.

That is all a true hunter needs.

The message was well received but I would not falter. I make my next move.

With a breathless whisper I sound out the flower, all the while painting my face in one of confusion, the little girl I play knows nothing of flowers, all she knows in true knowledge is the Hyuuga and its prized eyes. There was no education of the language of flowers and the usefulness it poses within the two years I have lived in this world.

I let the question be seen and not heard. The shinobi plays along without pause.

"Ah gomen nasai, Hinata-chan. Come and follow me I will show you the flower I spoke of. I do hope you like it." A playful and sheepish expression masked his face as he stood and turn in a elegance most would envy toward his destination. I let out a quiet laugh, only to stop and blush, from my forwardness. A glance and an encouraging smile was received from the blonde.

Hit. Dodge. Hit. Dodge.

Even though I was a broken and practically useless thing until now, I am glad I had enough intelligence in that state to train in the art of deceit, to be able to act. If not...he would be more blunt in his approach or at least have an even more favorable advantage. I continue to my this doll strings.

Following the Yamanaka I look around his shop, my face full of curiosity and wonder as I wildly move my head toward everything. In my fake curiosity I spot Neji and his Otou-san in the far corner conversing among each other, Hizashi looking astutely toward his Musuko (son) while Neji lets his gaze flicker between Hizashi and I. Three rows away from the boy and the man, Hitomi, wanders between reality and memory. She caresses a gleaming green stem of the Hingbana while expressing every emotion felt in her eyes. I couldn't help, but look away. If I stayed in her eyes I would answer a call only a loved one could answer. Instead I ignore the pang of affection and need and love that begins to wilt my veins. I ignore the only one to love me unconditionally. She was part of my foolish, the cause. I ignore the pang of something indescribable thread into my bones. I am not weak.

Not anymore.

The leader of my intended destination slows to a stop in front of the five petaled plant that we seek. Ranging from white to dark pink the Ume mesmerizes the onlookers. Small and potted the plant sits and waits for a human to come and let it take root on the grounds within their home.

"This is the Ume, Hinata-chan. What do you think? Is it not beautiful?" The florist who enjoys natures bountiful gifts, moves and signals to a pale pink one.

I step clumsily to the resplendent Ume with a false wonder in my fading colored eyes. Looking memorized in the plants petals I begin to paint a widening smile on my face. My voice raises to a normal volume without a stutter claiming and appreciating the flower's beauty.

"It's beautiful Yamanaka-sama." My voice a bit breathless to the hypnotic gaze of pale pink.

"Please call me Inoichi-san, Hinata-chan and I am glad you like the Ume." Acting as if I need to force myself to look at the man I begin to gaze at him instead. As always his act is immaculate. Open, caring, and safe.

Hit. Dodge. Hit. Dodge.

The cry of Otuo-san from Hitomi wrenches us from our created illusory atmosphere. With a blink I let my head roam to the rapid wave of red cloth moving towards the entrance of this shop. As the red woman moves towards a new player, a new and untold family member, the air begins to loose the lively air that dances and consumes the inside of the flax yellow shop. Before seeing the unexpected guest within the Yamanaka flower shop I turn my head towards Neji and Hizashi. Both of their stances become straighten and rigid, their muscles tense, and Hizashi's face becomes stone. Neji's face pales and becomes stoic before he moves behind his Otou-san. Neji becomes less of a boy and more of a servant. They both begin to move in sync towards the ecstatic Hitomi as she gracefully hugs the dark clothed man. She seems to be the only one who did not dampen or tense within the man's presence. Somehow she seems to be the only lively and bright thing within the almost suffocating atmosphere. Even the plants allude to being wilted, the colors that brush the room with vibrancy have dulled.

Feeling a piercing look in my direction I obey its pull. Its pupil-less master gazes at me with his act still in place yet unlike seeing the change of my cousin and his father, I feel it. In his eyes I can almost see pieces of a assuming puzzle piece together.

With a soft turn of his lips he begins to speak, "Come, Hinata-chan. Let us go meet your Ojii-san." Taking a step back his signals with his left hand to move forward.

I obey, albeit with a shy nervousness that this act requires. In effect, Inoichi gently places his hand upon my right shoulder before he smiles just a touch wider when I look at him in gentle curiosity. A slight nod I take enough encouragement from the blonde's gesture to begin to move towards the group of people.

Hit. Dodge. Hit. Dodge.

As I close in the distance with small, quiet steps I see both Hizashi and Neji bow deeply before the dark clothed stranger. Moving my gaze directly to the stranger, my apparent 'Sofu,' I begin to assess and catalog his appearance. His clothing is colored black and white in an interesting and identifiable style. A white yukata is halfway hidden upon his upon his upper torso, the white being hidden by an quarter cut dark robe. The robe hides and confines his right arm with the left free to move and hold a wooden cane. Moving lavender-white eyes up I see what looks to be a scar. A few more steps imitating that of a mouse the scar seems to be in the shape of an x. Focusing more unto his face I add more reasons to be able to identify the man. Black, shaggy hair with a white bandage covering most of it along with his forehead and right eye.

I meet his icy dark eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sofu - is Japanese for grandfather, but when you (yourself) talks about your grandfather, not to them. Ojiisan is when addressing your or someone else's grandfather directly. (let me know if I am wrong) I did get this information from other sources.
> 
> Sooooo...This story is definitely an AU. Also it is kinda writing itself. Just flows through me and I was all like, 'Hey, i'll go with it. Kinda like it too. It's different.' Yep that is how it happened. I am low-key living for this. Makes things interesting. Don't worry this will be an adventure.


	14. Shimura Danzo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto
> 
> Notes: I know this chapter is short, but it seems to fit. Short but there. There is definitely going to be a part two and I intended to write more, but it didn't fit or end this chapter correctly. This chapter felt like it needed to be short and impact-full. I like it. I do. I am also so very excited. I know its slow but one day we will leave this era. Maybe head on to the academy or a different route. *Shrugs*
> 
> Anyways have a cozy day readers.

Another step I enter a hissing chorus of the man's presence and for the first time I keep eye contact with a stranger. No family. My fading colored orbs shine with curiosity as my face matches with curiosity's colors and mixes with the colors of happiness and, of course, a stroke of a dark shyness. Another step I see how his dark orbs of brunt umber seem endless and cold. Secrets and knowledge drip like molasses within his eyes.

Another step and I become only six steps away from him.

I bow in respect and introduce myself befitting of a heiress. I become less of a human and more of an art. I do not stutter. Though my voice is twinged in a bundle of fraying nerves that is stitched together with a string of shyness. My voice is soft.

I do not stutter. He is family. One of the few things that this mirage of a girl knows. Family, her eyes, and manners.

Straightening I began to meet the bandaged man with his assessing eye. I smile a soft smile that screams for acceptance, and the man's eye glints at a speed few would catch. A glint that shows interest, or, perhaps, a meaning for use. The dripping molasses of secrets and knowledge begins to flood the systems and a persistent scratching begins to hound at me to decipher its meaning. Thousands of assumptions flood my mind, the synapses fire rapidly pulsing with a wave of information, experience, and that dual paranoia. Within seconds only of few scenarios linger. None speaking louder in logic and all seeped with a dulled sense of edged tension. Another quick glint flashes through dark eyes and a smile slowly stitches upon the man's weathering face and just a slowly as it un-threads.

A feeling passes within my lungs speaking in tongues.

A language I have always had wired into my bones and soul.

Old scars in spirit show underneath this new skin, telling of the years and lessons learnt to understand it. The bleeding cuts of various sizes show how ever changing it is. How un-tamable it is. I must always adapt. I must always listen to the prophetic gibberish faithfully even if its vision is obscured through thick fog and winding roads. I must come to the end whatever it may be.

And I have come to the end of this path tangled in a dark fog filled with vines. Its speaks and shows.

I have past some sort of test. The man knows me. He has been watching.

The few scenarios plucked from thousands are burned to ash until one is left. He has been watching. Questions begin to drown my mind. How? Why? How long? Does he know? They are a screaming canopy of a dense jungle. None are answered.

Among the chaos a voice slithers silently yet it cancels the chorus of noise. My mask is useless in front of this man. He knows. He allows. He holds more power than the other hunter of flaxen-blonde.

In the midst of my tangling mind I keep the mask of a shy girl who finds strength in her family and I listen with a sharp ear. The man has begun his introductions.

"I am Shimura Danzo and I have come to meet you Hyuuga Hinata. Watashi no mago no Hinata-chan." (My grandchild, Hinata.)

The deceitful web that I have created catches another spider.


	15. Befitting of an Heir

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto
> 
> Warning: Mentions of child abuse, branding, and forced servitude.
> 
> Notes: Kinda of an experimental chapter, well more so than usual. If I am being honest. All of this is kinda experimental. Hope ya'll like it.
> 
> Have a peaceful day, peeps.

_The sky is a dark maroon licked in different shades of yellow and orange. Billowing smoke begins to cover the sky. The air thickening . The canopy of colors become quickly swallowed by the fury of ash and smoke._

_I begin to choke on ash._

_Blood pours like a steady river from a deep wound in my right hip._

_I'm dying._

_I can barely breathe._

_It's cold._

_It shouldn't be._

_There is a raging fire dancing in front of my eyes._

_It's coming closer._

_Spreading in a unrelenting force._

_I'm dying._

_I am going to die._

_But it won't be from the loss of blood._

_The flames catch me._

_I'm consumed._

_I am not cold anymore._

A scream hooks into my throat as I lurch from my last moment. Sweat clings from every pour, my muscles tense and aching, and my throat dry and pricked from sharp breaths, filled with a clinging scream that will never be released.

I draw a deep and shaky breath out of tighten lungs. The tension sticks like glue and I begin to force a few more breaths in and out of sore lungs. Slowly the tension leaves, but it brings more pain with each passing second. More air is exhaled. Pushing past my lips the clear air shifts to ash.

Inhaling I almost choke.

Another exhale. Another. Another. Another. The room is filled with it. Thick and soft and marking.

A cool breeze gently enters from the cracked window of the smudged room.

A blink and the air is clear. The cool breeze undaunted continues.

But my heated skin never cools.

Another breath and the cool air slowly battles the heat and chills my skin.

Another breath and I steel myself.

With hard snap of my lids I fall into myself.

I'm cold again.

…...

Opening my eyes the room that was once filled with shadows created by night, lightens by the rising sun. As the room brightens so becomes my mind. The infected wounds from my past are re-clean and stitched and still so very raw, but the visage of tranquility stills blankets around me. Battling my unending self-created daemons has left me in an unknown state. An in-between of exhaustion and resolve. Understanding and resentment. Sereneness and chaos. My death will never leave me nor my own daemons, but with time I can at least co-exist with them. However fragile it will be.

With a deep breath I leave the warm and sweat scented sheets to meet the cool ground with bare feet. Moving with a near silence I head towards a large closet to dress for the new day. I contemplate on others matters besides the icy steel grip of death and the sweltering way in which it captured me.

Moving toward snow white doors with colors of red, pink, and brown taking space within it by masterful painted design of a plum tree curled and branching out from the side to the center of the door. The pink and red petals fall from the branches, the father away the leaves become from its partner the fewer there are. Touching and gripping the dark wooden ring handle, I slide the door to reveal expensive silk and cotton fabrics that were cut and fitted to wear in perfection for its owner. I take a step into dyed silk and cotton to pick for a formal meeting of our guest, Shimura Danzo.

Letting my finger flow across the dress-ware I let my mind wander to the months prior of this. Months of preparation as well as the education that pertains to our clan and the extra lessons Hiashi bestowed upon me when hearing of the embarrassment I had caused the clan when I had tainted the image of an heir that belongs to the Hyuuga.

_"No heir of our clan shall act as you have acted, Hinata. If I had known I would have not granted Hitomi permission to allow you to experience the world outside of these walls. I am disappointed in you, Hinata, but this disappointment will only harden my resolve to see you become befitting of this clan's heir." All of this was said is a frosty steel tone and eyes frozen in a hard glare towards me. The parting of frowning lips predicted that he was not done with his harsh words that he had immediately spoken when Hitomi, Hizashi, Neji, and I returned._

_"Your lessons in both education and to become a worthy heiress shall begin immediately when the sun rises. You will not disappoint me again Hinata, or I shall see fit to punish you in accordance. Now go." Moving around the stiff and angered man I left with a mask of self-disappointment and unmeaning-full tears. Reaching closer to the room dimly lit I heard a pained masculine that quickly drew out gasps filled with fear and woe._

_I opened the door to a dark room and stepped in._

**_Better them than me._ **

**_I ignored the stitching guilt that suddenly blossomed in my chest._ **

**_Better them than me._ **

**_I will not go through my past childhood again. They are different, but I will not test the murky waters._ **

**_Better them than me._ **

Letting my fingers graze to a stop I eye the kimono that the tips of my fingers rested on. The silk kimono was dyed in a dark plum color, lifting the sleeve of it, I notice how the color begins to fade to pink then pure white as it reaches the neckline. Letting the sleeve flow back down, I unhook the piece. Moving out of the enclosed room full of fitted pieces I gently slide the door shut and begin to dress.

As I mechanically flow through the motions of undressing and dressing I reminisce in the harsh lessons and the advantage it gave. Each lesson lasted into the night until the need of sleep was required. Each day was filled with more education of our clan, its prized eyes and Chakra along with the rehabilitation of the created girl's personality. In some moments I pushed for it to be longer as an act of an determined girl who wished to please her father, but besides keeping the creation believable from a mistake the reasoning was two-fold. When adhered to by Hiashi I was able to learn even more. Gather more information and hold a better understanding of this world.

Slowly I was able to mold the the girl's image for myself and to appease the white eyed man. I slowly become more formal and cold and almost apathetic. Something befitting of an heiress and befitting to me. No longer did I need to truly act. Of course there are moments. Moments created to appease both Hitomi and Neji. I was more myself but there were glimmers of the created girl that only showed when I was alone with them. Glimmers of love and affection. Glimmers that I force myself to believe are lies.

_It was a lie._

_It has to be._

_There is no true affection and bond between the boy and I. No connection seen to a boy who walks a thin line, a boy forced in servitude, a boy basically a slave. There was no connection that formed and somewhat coincided with my own past. Nor could there be a relief that sprouted from my heart and into my mind that the boy was at least loved and had not spent nights bloody and broken by familiar hands._

**_Wandering..._ **

**_Hoping..._ **

**_Actually trying to please and appease..._ **

_**Wishing for even an small once of affection**._

_No. None. No connection. No endless questions were sent and asked to the main branch head to find a loophole for the boy. Just a need for information, as always. Nor was there a poisoned cut of guilt that bleeds into my bloodstream as I grow closer to the age of three. A marked day where a branded curse will be put upon his forehead as a gift for the clan._

_Something that some would say he is destined for. A ludicrous idea that he begins to believe. I do not hate that logic. Nor do I try do dissuade him from it and fail._

_I don't._

_It's an act._

_Nor did I find myself thankful in moments for Hitomi. The knowing look in her eye and sweet words of unneeded love that fall from red lips. Nor did I care for the nights where she sings and creates pictures of memorizing worth with a steady, manicured hand in my room. Flowing assuredly with each stroke as the picture becomes more and more alive. I only copied her for an act. I only learned to paint pictures and sing like a song bird for a need to learn. I did not do it for her….or me. It is just a need to know and to have those skills to use should the need ever arrive._

**_It's all an act._ **

**_It has to be._ **

Finishing the unconscious steps of dressing I move like the next step in a dance. Pirouettes and twirls flourished without thought through the dance of a morning readiness.

I'm lying.

But what else can I do.

I don't know.

I can't stop.

The past-present self that I have keep prisoner is breaking free.

Melding with my true self.

I am now dull and sharp. And still changing.

As the morning ritual ends, I cut off all the knotted strings of tangled thoughts to burn. The door to this enclosed space opens and Hitomi clothed always in red appears. A smile wide and joyous stretches her cherry lips as she beckons for me to come closer. I obey.

I am an heiress befitting of the Hyuuga clan after all.

It's something that I can easily be.


	16. Shimura Danzo - Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: As always I do not own Naruto.
> 
> Notes: So Danzo. Daaaanzoo. First off I tried. Maybe he seems in character? Second off he is human. I know whaaatt? But yeah he is a complex individual. I mean all of the things he did, no matter how wrong or inhumane it was, it was to protect Konoha. I mean it all came back in the form of hardcore karma but he did have reason. No matter how idiotic his actions were. He is human. He is also a dick. He will not appear in ever chapter but he will makes appearance throughout the story. And throughout the story he will become more real? Ya know emotions and reasons and stuff. Now that is over with let me know any mistakes or if I need to explain a few things. Hope you like it!
> 
> Have a day filled with joy, readers.

Following the soft, small steps of the woman in red, I travel along a wooden path enclosed with dim lights and cream white paper-walls. As the narrow path with a high ceiling sharply turns left, we continue to move unimpeded leaving imprinted, invisible footprints on the cool wooden floor as we continue forward. With each step placed to inch forward we slowly pass the main bedrooms and the library filled with scrolls and books and secrets buried of long past. Secrets that are hidden and only whispered about with warning to the heir line. Secrets of the cursed brand that allows the marked's eyes to be sealed. Secrets that Hiashi spoke of when he educated me on the differences of the branch family and of the coming fateful day for the budding progeny that dwells within.

Secrets that will be spilled to me when the time comes as well as secrets that are know only through voice and will never be fully fleshed out in written words to feast curios eyes. Those unopened secrets that I will protect as is my duty from those occupying this world and myself. Secrets that whisper ancient words unknown to the writer's predecessors. Words that seem to hold fear within each letter.

Those words, those secrets have become a desire that I must fulfill. A need to pry apart and devour until all the painted words flow across my greedy eyes. Especially the secrets only whispered in silence with its written words lost in our ancestors paranoia and the loyalty of their bloodline.

**_But I am not loyal. Not to this dead. Nor this living._ **

**_When I find an opening, I will abuse it. I will learn._ **

~~**_Perhaps even find a way for Neji_ ** ~~

**_It calls. I will answer._ **

Another sharp turn and I enter the hallway that holds the dining room. Wide and elegant sliding doors stand tall to cover the entrance of the room. A place that holds an awaiting guest and the head of the main family.

Beginning to kneel at the crack of the sliding doors as costumed in etiquette, Hitomi begins to slide the left door open with her nearest hand a few inches. Moving to the side to not be seen until prompted, I watch as she stills and waits for permission to enter from Hiashi and confirmation of readiness from Danzo. Switching hands she slides the door back the rest of the way. As the door softly lands open Hitomi slides her knees forward to enter the room. When she fully enters the room the rest of etiquette is unseen as the door gently closes behind her.

As indistinct whispers flood the closed room I begin to occupy the place where the red woman knelt with experience and elegance. As I kneel within the spot at the crack of the door, I wait a few breaths before I begin the steps. Steps that were perfected within my caged months of this formal prison I was born in. Steps that must be perfect as Hiashi as well as his accompaniment will watch and scrutinize my movements.

**_A test with a prize if passed._ **

**_Freedom._ **

**_A punishment if not._ **

**_Invisible shackles tightened with a longer sentence._ **

As the last awaiting breath leaves past my lips, I begin. Each step, each move is precise with a graceful flow of elegance that was earned through lessons upon lessons of manners and etiquette. Manners and customs that coincide with my old world and give a sense of deja-vu. Something I have read but never truly learned or participated in. The only advantage I have had in my lessons within this world is the ability to speak the language, everything else has become a quiet struggle. Especially when it comes to the lessons pertaining to writing: Hiragana, kanji, katakana, and so forth.

Something Hitomi has used to help humanize me within these past months. To help her cope with the girl who is growing to quick and to cold. The girl she lost after Hiashi clawed and dug his fingers into.

_She smiles and laughs with soft elegance in her own ethereal way at my atrocious technique of ink strokes. The words that I can easily bend and twist around my tongue, but not with the masterly crafted brush dipped in ink and sloppily stroked onto the parchment before me. As her laugh reaches a crescendo that could be compared to bells my strokes begin to wither as I hear her unrestrained laugh. I cannot help but smile at this moment. New and foreign and light. Her laugh easily stills to a comfortable silence as she gently places her hand upon mine._

_"Oh Hinata, here let me help you. Concentrate on the way I let myself glide with the brush stroke."_

_"See? You don't not force but **flow** with it."_

_"You **cannot** **control** everything my dear."_

_"It is rare but there are times like this, that you must let your control go and l **et it guide you**."_

_"Then there are times where there is no control. **For either side**."_

_After her lesson I had been able to learn with consistency when I was not inflexible with her teachings. I have had always a resemblance of control in my past life after I had fought and bleed for it. Within this present life the hard-fought control vanishes and reappears on its own whim. It makes me feel vulnerable as I did when I was a small child in my own past world when this untamed control vanishes with the wind._

_It also gives me relief when knocks on my door again._

_"See Hinata, you have improved quite a bit."_

_"Soon you will master this skill as well."_

_"You won't need me anymore after all these lessons. To intelligent for my need to take care of you."_

_"But, I will always be proud of you, my beautiful daughter."_

_"Always."_

_"I love you."_

~~**_Perhaps sometimes I continue that mistake of inflexibility even as my skill to write slowly improves. Just to see her laugh. Just to show her that I do lov_ ** ~~

As the end of the dance of etiquette closes I bow on the tatami floor. Rising and straightening my spine, I look forward at the sleek, dark mahogany chabudai table where Hiashi is seated. Gazing at his frozen face forever marked in a cold sternness, I watch for an indication of approval in the test he has set before me and the silent, assessing audience. Staring for a few slowed seconds Hiashi eyes the accompaniment lingering to the right where Danzo sits in perfect posture. Swiftly his eyes pierce back into my own and approval is marked with a subtle nod of his head.

**_Freedom is granted to me._ **

**_Freedom that is dangled on steel rope._ **

In consequence of his action I deliver one back.

Turning to face our formal guest, I bow in my sieza position and greet the man, "Konnichiwa Shimura-sama." As my slow, pronounced, and softly toned words leave my lips, my spine slowly begins to straighten and my pale eyes rise to meet narrowed eyes dipped in the colour of an dark oaken brown.

A gesture in acknowledgment is given from the man before he finishes the ritualistic greetings I began.

"Konnichiwa Hinata-chan." His withered voice slithers in a deep tenor.

Correcting my body to face toward the table, I kept my body pinned in its position, straight and still and poised. Letting my eyes flow from Danzo to Hiashi I await for the next order to follow. Much like a superior to an subordinate, but with pretty words and posturing. Appearance and language of mind, body, and words is everything in the eyes of an judging noble.

Show an image that is worth more than any true individuality could bring.

Awaiting pretty words that will freeze its path into the awaiting accompaniment from Hiashi, I await in silence. A slight sound of rustled fabric attunes my sense of hearing and my peripheral to the source. In near silent movement Hitomi effortlessly gathers the black plain tea set consisting of the pot and two cups and moves out of the room. More than likely to refill it and bring two more cups for the newly arrived company. The scent of Matcha tea fills the almost oppressing air in the open room that is filled with spilling sunlight from Hitomi's now absence side.

Paper doors are opened to reveal a patch of squared land untouched by the domineering house. Freshly cut grass of vibrant green almost devours the land enclosed by smooth wooden walkways of the main house. Patches and paths of smooth grayish-white stone meddle within the flowing shorts strands of grass. Yet the clear pond of content Koi fish in the middle of this land draws the eye with its décor. Larger stone and rock, mossy or clear, surround the pond each slowly gathering toward the eastern side of it making an hill. Wet, glossy rocks stand proud on the very top of the structure as clear water flows freely from it into the pond of eye catching scales that swim to and fro. Various green plants sprout proudly from the ground soaking up the sun lazily. Leaning against the rocks in support becoming more and more infused with them. Wild and lazy and content. With each gust of gently wind they barley sway and the clank of an Tsukubai water fountain sings in harmony with it.

Its clear that Hitomi's hand has touched and guided this secluded place.

"As I have said Shimura-sama and you are witnessing as we speak, Hinata's behavior has been corrected. She has also progressed in her lessons at an exceptional rate." A slight pause in the Hyuuga's speech lingered as his eyes gently close in concentration as if contemplating how to structure his next sentence.

"I would not have allowed your presence otherwise if she has displayed the opposite. Nor do I believe you would have come, would you?" A slow open of his eyes reveals an intelligent sheen flowing through the enclosed white within his orbs. Languidly he moved his sight to the man diagonal from him. Awaiting an already answered response.

"You are correct Hyuuga-san. I would not have come invited or not, but fortunately young Hinata has proven to be a worthy heir of your clan as well as an exceptional shinobi of Konoha. In theory." A slight glance sought my way as the bandaged man spoke though no more than an quick look in assessment of use and quality than as an human being.

"Which brings me to the main reason I am here, Hyuuga-san. When will Hinata begin her physical training? Her Chakra? The earlier she begins the more worth she will have as a shinobi." His voice remains sure and steadfast, even as the man beside him begins to tense and loosening his lips to frown.

As the white-eyed man begins to form a word against his opposite, Danzo continues uninterrupted without a care for formalities, "It is inadvisable to delay her training and let her fester unskilled and unprotected in this world. Her cousin, Neji, is already leagues ahead of Hinata, your **heir** , in his training and skill. By what I have heard Hitomi's daughter has talent and could be considered a genius of her own, if tested."

No pause came of his slow and unrelenting speech as Hitomi, clad in red, appeared swiftly and quietly in the darkening and tensing atmosphere of the sunlit room of elegant white paper-walls and dark wood. Gently placing the black tea-set with the addition of one more cup, she placed the expertly crafted and expensive cups in front of the occupying guests of the room. A slight question found a place in her eyes as she lifted the tea pot filled with the scent of Matcha to Hiashi, Danzo, and I.

Only Hiashi declined with a hard look and venomous thoughts circling his eyes.

With only an painted red smile and a nod she fulfilled the two requests in a graceful and dignified manner only few could achieve in such an atmosphere. Gently placing the steaming tea pot down she glanced and signaled with a wave of her delicate hand that I would now be serving the men their tea. I bow with eyes containing understanding, consent, and farewell. She bows with eyes full of blinding love and never-lasting goodbyes.

Another bow is given from Hitomi towards a silent and heated Hiashi, followed by another to the darkly dressed man still weaving words with no regards to his anger-filled recipient. Done with formalities she leaves.

The red woman left just as swiftly and silently as she entered.

"Unless, of course, you are loosing grip as the Head of the Hyuuga clan and more. If so, I shall take Hinata out of your hands. Let another child take over and become you heir and I will shape Hinata to her full potential. We both know it is a possibility Hiashi." At the end of his rather disrespecting and enlightening speech, Danzo reached for the newly filled and offered Matcha tea and took a sip filling with a brief contentment.

Only then did he break eye contact with the frozen man, who has begun to melt with the blazing fire of rage he filled with, to savor his tea. A move of power. One that sung of his higher station, of his power, of his knowledge. A gutsy move filled to the brim with unwavering disrespect to his lesser.

I found myself uncaring of his power move. Though the feeling did not matter. I did not matter. I am only expected to play the part of a graceful mannequin. In the end really none of this truly matter, at least to me.

They are not The Royal Regime. They do not have my loyalty. They are not my leader. Even though I have died and this loyalty to the lost is foolish, I cannot find myself stopping. Even if I have died on the order of _~~A~~_

It does not matter. Without him I would not be what I had become. I would not have reached my potential and beyond. Without him I would have been dead long before my actual death.

**_No one is him._ **

It did not matter.

Whatever is decided I will be trained.

Whatever is decided I will unlock the secrets of the Hyuuga clan. Heir or not.

But with the unbidden rage encasing the Hyuuga head I believe that I will remain his heir and the secrets of the clan will be handed to me.

"Hinata will remain the heiress of this clan, Danzo. She will also be trained by **me** , how **I** see fit, and when **I** wish to have her trained." Molten lava seemed to be spit with every word thrown to the unperturbed man wrapped in bandages.

Fiery rage licked and lined the younger man's body as he abruptly moved to stand in the wide and constricting room. His eyes never leaving the darkly clothed man that clashed with his white clothed body in his action. The room seemed to be colder in his rage as he looked at the man beneath his gaze.

" I suggest you take your leave, Danzo. Bid your daughter and **my** daughter farewell for you will not step a foot within my compound as I see fit." As his words took a precise punctuation of a striking rhythm he moved his arm with the same precision of a strike to point the way out of the room.

The ordered man took another sip of his steaming tea with closed eyes before opening them to appreciate the scenery laid out before him. Languidly he move his head to meet my dulled eyes that watch this play before me.

"It seems I must go Hinata-chan, but before I do remember only I can help you reach your full potential." His tone of voice almost bordered on boredom as his let his words sink and infect the room surrounding him. The harsh voice of a younger man forced the older man's his through a tightening mouth in warning.

The warned man did not even register it as he stared in interest like I was a new object for his ever expanding collection.

"Sayonara, we will meet again." With a promise dripping into the burning air of icy rage, he slowly stood up with his cane clutched leisurely within his hand. With one last look at the only thing that has taken his interest, he leaves with confidence in an silent stride.

As the sound on the door slides open to close not a few moments later, I am left with a man filled in unbridled rage. Another moment passes before the Hyuuga head's veins begin to bulged around alert and narrowing eyes. His cutting voice sounds through the air in a clear order, "Follow him."

His eyes nor his head ever move to follow the man whom is my sofu, but it is not needed. Just one of the abilities of the dojustu, Byakugan. Taking a sip of the untouched Matcha tea in front of me I close my eyes in the silent room to soak in the peace of the aftermath of rubble that Danzo left in his wake to the once unflappable Hiashi. Feeling the warmth of the tea heat my body from the inside I ponder the man with the cane's last statement. 'We will meet again.'

I do not doubt the truth in his statement. If he so wills it, it will come true. I just ponder when.

Opening my eyes with apathy stored in the dark of my pupil, I leave the unanswered question alone. There is no use to seek an answer that can only be answered by another action. Besides I have more wandering thoughts that are worth more of my attention than an awaiting answer.

The connection between Hitomi and Neji, the evidence of my concluded assumption or the evidence of the truth that will leave me in dissatisfaction. The secrets of this training of the clan's techniques, the chakra, the clan's dojutsu.

Another sip of warm tea and I move my eyes to the man that I share blood with.

Unflinchingly I stare into the eyes showing the clan's revered eyes. The only thing I am looking forward too when my three years of living is marked and upon me. The feeling that I grip to shake the growing dread of that coming day.


	17. December 27th

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto
> 
> Warning: Mentions of child abuse, branding, and forced servitude.
> 
> Notes: This chapter will be in two or three parts since I am covering Hinata's birthday, Neji getting his cursed seal, and the famous Hyuuga incident. So, bare with me. Also things start changing and diverging off of cannon with December 27th chapters. There will be cannon related happenings but not identical. I hope this makes sense.
> 
> Ya'll are amazing. Woot.

Pure-white flakes of snow are gently carried down to the disappearing ground beneath my feet. The wind carries a cold caress as it flows in a world-weary way underneath a light grayish sky. Feeling the cold seep through many layers of expensive silk dyed in royal purple, I shiver and release a heated breath shown in the slowly consumed world I stand in. Snow flakes leisurely land upon my decorated head that Hitomi styled this morning prior in a enthusiastic yet subdued manner.

Time was taken during the hours were the sun would tentatively peek across the horizon in pinks, purples, blues, yellows, and oranges to dress me for this momentous day. A kimono of my choosing in colour was presented and fitted to my form as small light filtered by glass and newly fallen snow entered my room. Afterward Hitomi, always clad in red, stepped into my private domain to style my hair in her envisioned image.

Nails of painted cherry red peeked from underneath long and thick hair to brush any knots left in my troubled sleep. Her bright kimono sleeves dyed red and patterned in intricate small flowers were moved delicately up her thin arms to keep her movement unimpeded. Steady hands weaved a thick braid on the right side of my head before she curled the rest of my straight edged hair. Then she swiftly gathered the braid and freshly curled blue-tinted hair to pin it into an ornate bun. Straight bangs and a bundle of curled shorter hair on each side of my pale face was left, excluded for the wind to tease. Then an exquisite ornament decorated with large flowers of deep purple and white with three hanging sliver chains mixed in gold was placed between tightened hair and constricted curls.

Now the cold stings my skin beneath the layered kimono kissed with twirling flowers and the snow melts into the masterpiece Hitomi weaved with soft strands of my hair. Gazing at the pure snow with tainted off-white eyes I welcome this graceful and fragile thing. This scenery before me helps bind the growing grief for a lost boy. A boy who is slowly losing his sunny, free, and child-like disposition with each use of the cursed marks gift on his father and the coming hours of his own fateful mark.

I have never loved my birthday. Not when gifts were given in the form of fists and bruises. Scars and blood. Cruel words and crumbling hope. I never learned to love my marked years after the abuse either. Each time that marked day came stumbling onto my door just meant that I have avoided death for another year.

But now its seems that fear and the wonder of why and unrequited love that turned to apathy now, now turns to hate.

All because of a boy. A boy who seeks my cold company and colder eyes. A foolish boy who sees warmth in my eyes when pointed at him and my 'Okaa-san.' A boy who talks and talks and talks about anything and everything to me. A boy who has slowly but surely began to talk like a proper Hyuuga as time went on.

A stubborn boy who has begun to fiercely believe in destiny and fate. A boy who refuses to believe that we are the ones who are in control of our own lives. A boy who chose one side of the tight rope he walked on. The side I can not help but wish he dismissed.

At least in my compa-

It does not help that my past life's birthday lands on the same day and month as my current one.

Dully I recognize my stiffening limbs and the creeping cold settling inside my blood, the need to move from my still position. As thoughts claw and dig into my mind I slowly move toward the branch house. As I silently stalk to the closed doors greedily holding heat, I try to force my mind to dwell on other memories and thoughts.

But these thoughts find a way back to the boy, just as I tread my path through mounting snow to greet a door that holds protection against the weather.

Sliding the doors open I am immediately engulfed with heat that eagerly battles against the cold. The heat amounts a vast victory as I step into its territory, taking off my snow-ridden geta (footwear), and closing out the biting invaders.

Now feeling the warmth return to my body I stride along the long and dimly lit hallway. I navigate in confidence the seemingly unending passageways that have memorized the step of my feet to meet the boy that causes these vicious and unrelenting thoughts clouding my mind.

Reaching a plain single door that does not differentiate from its siblings in design, I lift my small and delicate hand to knock twice on the simple oaken frame. As the second knock ends a cold yet soft sound leaves my lip in the form of "Neji."

I am greeted with a boyish voice of a child speaking my name and the slow opening of the door. As the door slides to a full open, Neji stands in a dark blue kimono. The muted dark blue silk with no design sewed into it, fits perfectly across his pale body. The taller boy with soft, long hair wears a raring smile as he looks down at me. Soft and warm and full of affection. I could not help a small twitch of a smile that appears on my face before it rests back into its cold indifference.

"Congratulations, Hinata-san." A warmth filled his tone as he respectfully bowed to me.

A tone that is only reserved for three people. When no wandering eyes or listening ears can catch.

"How are you doing today?" The question that left his lips was more of a formality than anything, he knew the real answer even without words.

The truth cannot be told, but a lie can be slipped. So I lie with a masterfully etched smile.

"Good, you?" Another formality that requires a lie then truth.

"I am good as well Hinata-san." The lie slipped from his tongue with a terseness I did not comment on. Nor did I even acknowledge the slight twitch of strain lips forming a smile or the lost of light in his eyes.

Like he never comments on the slight affection that shows in my vulnerability when he or Hitomi are around.

Because I do not.

Just like him.

"Are you ready?" His eyes become a bit duller as he spoke those three words.

"Hina-chan." The private use of his childish nickname for me was whispered in the still air only for the two of us to hear.

His eyes brighten with a flash as it lingered and seeped in the air creating a warm moment. Gazing unabashedly at my older cousin I could see fondness and simpler memories play in the pupil of his eyes. He look older in this moment than he should as if he was man replaying memories that were created in his youth. He looked as if the years and people have gone by as his stood near a casket gazing at a pale corpse of a dead loved one. A resigned acceptance holds his form, clad in black, as he stands without a twitch of movement in that sacred moment.

My cousin is no longer a child in heart or mind.

I ignore the blackening hatred that begins to fuel itself as I stare at the physical reminder that he is just a child. I also ignore the foolish hope that tries to combat the growing beast of hatred. The hope that whispers of a possible solution in the secrets hidden within this clan. I only care for the secrets because of the knowledge they hold.

~~**_I continue to lie to my_** -~~

"Of course, Neji-kun. Let this day begin." The words tasted like ash as they left my constricting throat and dry mouth.

The closing of his lids vanquish any lingering vulnerability as his face slips into a cold mask with no emotion attached to it. He nods as his eyes open, revealing pale eyes that resemble stone. Then he moves. Silence attaches itself to the artificially warm hallways and our moving bodies, as we stride with purpose to our destination.

Barely a pause came as we slipped on our geta and opened the doors to the now still snow-covered world. Stepping into the cold, I welcome the hellish freeze it brings as the brown-haired boy closes the doors behind us out of duty and appearance. I wait only two breaths before he gives another nod of readiness and begins to strides through the walkways of the connecting houses that I forgone early this morn.

That I forgone to feel the stinging freeze on my burning and tired limbs. Limbs that burned through my decoration this morning from another uneasy sleep filled with blood and fire. The tiredness that lingered from the rest of a sleepless night. The sleepless night that gave freedom of time due to its cruel shadowy arms that left once I awoke with a scream hooked into my throat. Morpheus grants mercy and hell as he pleases. The hell he grants in my dreams and the mercy he grants in my mind that fires one to many thoughts to even wonder about sleep.

But with each sleepless night that passes I meditate and train my body. I meditate and train in the routine that I had in my past life.

Clear mind. Flexibility. Endurance. Strength. Agility. Though not nearly perfectly executed or as sustained as it had been, but in time I will.

Considering each night I awake alert and each day nothing is said or put to a stop afterwards.

While I make a conscious effort to expel most of the noise it is not utter silence. Perhaps it is because there are no guards that darken my doorway, but that line of thinking would be foolish. The compound houses those same guards, as well as, other harden veterans and killers. So perhaps it is in acceptance, my nightly activities, because I am not the only one who engages in that relief.

Unlike me the ones who do engage in any manner of training either leave or have the advantage of complete and utter silence. I do not have the advantage of attuned senses powered by the use of chakra, something that was only imagine through books of fantasy in my old world.

Suddenly the boy who is leading me stops as large doors darken our complexion in its shadows. Doors that hold the awaiting guests of this day.

The tall and wide doors slide open as my escort announces in a stiff, formal tone that, "the heir of the Hyuuga clan is here."

Neji moves toward the left side bowing low and straight before one of the open doors, still and stationary until I enter the room. A room decorated sparsely yet refined with an expensive taste that holds all of the main family in its large space. Barely moving my eyes I see a few branch members as well, all covering their markings in neat bandages or hitai-ates, bowing just like the boy. The main family stands proud before me awaiting with stern and cold faces to begin part of the long ceremony for the day.

I stride selfishly and proudly toward the head of the family, Hiashi, and the previous head, Hisahito. Hyuuga Hiashi's and Hizashi's father, an elder with a stern face covered in wrinkles caused by the passage of time. His skin is a murky tan that helps brighten his almost ghostly, milky, shrewd eyes with long hair that reminds me of smoke that signals a burning fire. All this is personified in his gray kimono that almost resembles black in its shade.

As I reach within a arms length of Hiashi I stand to a still and bow. Slowly I move to meet the eyes of the man who will announce his heir, my birthday, and the ceremony of his nephew.

December 27th is a day I have come to hate.


	18. December 27th - Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto
> 
> Warning: Mentions of abuse, child abuse, anxiety attacks
> 
> Notes: So December 27th may be longer than I was expecting but it happens.
> 
> As above there is an anxiety attack/child abuse. Anxiety attacks/child abuse are serious and not a joking matter. I have experienced anxiety attacks/abuse before. If you have/had anxiety attacks before, know that you are not alone. It does not make you less or a burden or weak. If you have experienced/experiencing abuse, know that you are not alone. You are not less or a burden or weak. You do not deserve that.
> 
> You are not less. You are more.

"Hyuuga Hinata, from this day forward you are recognized to be the succeeding heir of the Hyuuga clan." Hiashi's voice echoed within the large room. Pride fills his normally frozen tone as he stands among his clan filling the artificially heated air around him.

"After today of celebration and Hyuuga Neji's induction to become a true member of this clan and its Branch Family, you will truly begin your training." A resigned despair falls and seeps into the floor and corners of the room as the known fate of a child is spoken out loud. Though Hiashi's grim words do not shake him or intone that nature as he continues to speak with a steel pride toward everyone.

"This training will educate and perfect your inherited dojustu, the Byakugan, as well as prepare you for the academy when you reach the age of six. You are a Hyuuga, watashi no musumé (My daughter), you are expected to become a kunoichi of Konohagakure. You will bring this clan honor as I and many others have done before you and will continue to do after you leave this world. Make us proud, Hinata. For it is expected of you and in your blood." Silence lingered after his last words resounded around the room.

His stares expectant as he steely gazes into my eyes, awaiting the only answer he can and will accept.

And I answer it.

My own gaze, reminiscent of steel, stare back into his eyes with acceptance for my role and the expectations that are involved with it. I also give a slow nod of confirmation in show for the onlookers to know of my answer.

It was not needed, in their eyes, whether I am ready or not can only be determined in the future. Can only be confirmed through an action that has not and will not happen as of now. This was all just show.

Just as their smiles and pretty words.

Its all a show.

"Do not disappoint the clan or I, Hinata. Now go." With those parting words twisting the man's tongue I bow in recognition to him.

Straightening my spine to a stand, I leave. Leaving the Head and the previous Head of the Hyuuga clan to discuss what is needed in an allusion of privacy. I begin to mingle among of throng of people.

Among the crowd of nobles, I thrive in the act that I play. My movements and words are perfected as I dance around in step to the beat of judging eyes. With each action and word I daze the accompaniment and any onlookers as I give them the image of a perfect heir to their clan.

Knowledgeable. Formal. Elegant. Graceful. Dignified.

In the midst of playing the game I notice Hitomi, brightly shining red, next to a stiff boy who awaits his fate within the coming hours. Her posture that of a matriarch, but a face of a mother who has lost her only child. Without giving away any indication that my interests lay elsewhere, I continue to speak to an aged woman, dressed in emerald, as I witness Hitomi's hand shake gently in grief as she places it softly upon the boy's shoulders. Words are spoken softly from red lips to Neji in comfort as the ending of my own conversation comes to a close. Respectfully giving a goodbye to the decorated emerald woman of the main family, I leave heading toward red and blue figures left alone in a crowded room.

As I approach I see two pairs of similar eyes look in my direction. Both fill with a bit more warmth as they focus on my form, yet one holds knowing in feminine eyes. I let my eyes alight in interest toward feminine eyes framed by long lashes as I finally become within arms reach of the only people I could care about. Giving a soft smile in response to the boy's own emotional smile; I catch a flicker in the red woman's eyes. A feeling igniting within the center of my torso speaks in tongue that my wondering questions will be answered. I listen and lay in wait for that moment to come.

"Hinata, tonight we will talk about the events of today and continue your lessons. I have a feeling sleep will not welcome the both of us until we can tire our minds." Her cherry painted fingernails caress the top of my cheek bone before she breezily touches the bundle of short curls.

Her eyes hold a building grief as she continues the rest of her thoughts.

"How does this sound? We do not have too, of course." Her words almost become unintelligible as her voice drips in a molasses of melancholy.

The 'but I wish' is left unsaid, yet it sings in the silence of air as she fiddles my curled hair behind my ear.

"It sounds good Okaa-san." My tone is even in its frigid state as I let a smile crawl into place on my pale skin.

She graces one back that struggles to remain. As usual, I do not comment.

"Neji-kun where is your otou-san? I have not seen him." I let the question fall from my lips I as give my attention to the boy in question.

Rigid and frightened seems to describe the boy as he attempts to act fearless and strong as the hours slowly bleed away in the passage of time. A fragile air armors him as he grasps the opportunity to think about something else than his cursed fate that languidly pulls him in. A stuttering breath leaves him as an attempt to calm the anxiety that forces its way into his lungs, limbs, and mind. He barely escapes the tendrils latched onto him.

They begin to wait and slither and whisper.

Yet they still pull him toward a cavern reeking of all his fears and pain.

It is only a matter of time.

"Otou-san is helping to keep this cele-cel-celebration 'running smoothly,' he said. So he is moving and doing various tasks around the com-co..." His heaving breath catches in the back of his throat as his arms stagger into the middle of his torso gripping tightly in an attempt to hold the boy together.

He lost.

Quickly Hitomi holds the boy close to her chest as she moves quickly toward the closed doors. Her stride purposeful as she flings steely words at the guards standing before them. Each guard hurriedly grasps the doors to slide open for the matriarch holding a boy who is painfully losing his grasp of consciousness with each gasp that gives no kiss of sweet air.

As I begin to glide toward the guards that hold understanding and underlying hatred, I notice only a few faces show concern over the boy racked in cold sweat and heated tears. These faces all belong in the branch family. Their brows are furrowed in concern with a twitch of limbs that wish to answer the boy's call for help, but fear and self-preservation enter hesitant bodies as each person, in some way, signal to their own cursed mark covered in fabric.

The main family each sporting unmarked foreheads continue without even a dismissive glance. Expect for Hiashi as his face flashes in anger as he watches his wife carry the boy unabashedly out of the room.

Though he does not move. Just as quickly as he turned to watch the two clinging figures leave, he turns back to continue his discussion. A hatred builds within me that I can barely contain, hatred I could not hide as I gaze at twin guards with purple hair, Riku and Niko. Respect is shines briefly in their heterochromia eyes.

The twin's eyes of Byakugan white and dull orange gaze back into my own as they read unspoken words. Identical in face, clothing, and short, cropped hair to match, they slide the large doors open in sync without prompt. I dismiss the feeling of gratefulness that surges in my blood and face.

Entering the long hallway I see Hitomi crouched by a boy suffocating in anxiety and fear. Slowly approaching the duo I see the red woman notice my arrival. Tears slide down her face as she goes back to comforting the boy.

"It will be okay." Is murmured over and over again with little result.

Neji is close to passing out as his fingernails dig and scratched into sweat coated skin.

Quietly I lower myself to sit next to the gasping boy. As I begin to assess the damage, the boy changes to a girl.

A girl with dark hair and eyes. A girl with skin that matches the color of chestnut covered in yellow and purple bruises and bright red blood. The girl in huddled in a corner, sitting in her own piss, and clad in dirty torn clothes.

She grips her matted and tangled hair with rough tugs, ripping her hair in the process. Her sweat is cold and her tears are heated upon aching skin. Her breath struggles to break free as black dots appear in her hazy vision.

The girl fades in and out.

The boy fades out and in.

Screams resound and echo in the caverns of my mind.

Begging and pleading to be heard.

Wondering and asking to not be alone.

Wishing for someone to say,

 ** _"You are not alone_** , Neji."

Hoping for the words,

" ** _I am here for you_** , Neji."

Knowing that,

 ** _"It's only temporary_** , Neji."

Having someone say,

" ** _Breathe_** , Neji."

" ** _In, hold...and out. Good. Again_** , Neji."

Even foolishly wishing for someone to quote that quote which was read over and over again in the sanctuary of a decaying library.

" ** _Let me share some something with you,_** Neji."

" ** _Even the darkest night will end and the sun will rise_**." *

" ** _There is nothing sweeter in this sad world than the sound of someone you love calling your name_**."*

"Neji."

I, that girl, wished for quotes from books that seared her mind to be read out loud as many times as needed. Those books that allowed her to live vicariously through them.

Allowed her to be loved. Fearless. Strong. Beautiful. A daughter.

Books and the unkempt library were the only highlight in childhood. Each word meant no cruel words toward her. Each sentence meant time had passed with no pain. Each paragraph meant she was safe. Each book greedily read in the corner of the dull and broken down library meant comfort and joy.

" ** _There are darknesses in life and there are lights, and you are one of the lights, the light of all lights_**."*

"Neji."

But most of all I wished someone said those three simple words that holds more meaning than the word's three or simple.

" _ **I love you**_ , Neji."

I, the girl, wished it was on repeat over and over again.

So I repeated over and over again.

In my head and aloud.

Afters minutes passed, the fading girl and boy no longer struggled to breath. No longer trapped in mind and body.

Moments of all calm passed after the storm.

The girl disappeared as skinny arms snaked around my still form in comfort.

Only the boy was left.

And I was left picking up the pieces I had lain out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Even the darkest night will end and the sun will rise." - Victor Hugo, Les Miserables.
> 
> "There is nothing sweeter in this sad world than the sound of someone you love calling your name." - Kate DiCamillo, The Tale of Despereaux.
> 
> "There are darknesses in life and there are lights, and you are one of the lights, the light of all lights." -Bram Stroker, Dracula.
> 
> Again anxiety attacks and child abuse, any abuse, is a serious matter and should be handled with care, acceptance, no judgement, and understanding. Don't judge or bullshit this. Do not brush it off. Anxiety attacks and abuse are real and should be talked about.
> 
> Again you are not alone.
> 
> You are not less. You are more.


	19. December 27th - Part 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.
> 
> Notes: Another chappie that is more filler than anything. My bad. But there is a bright side to this! More depth to HinataOc! And another Oc! Also the not so bright side. Neji's sealing. Next chapter. Yeah I am not looking forward to it.
> 
> You are amazing. Thank you!

Tears soak through purple silk as arms tremble around my form. Breathing is steadier in a staccato rhythm from the boy who clings tightly against me. Cold sweat still sticks to the child's heated body, but the tears that began to flow like raging rivers stumbled to a stop.

Hesitance, shock, and fear keep me from copying his action. Hesitance in wondering if he is ready to be encased in a claustrophobia of comfort. Shock for my action and his. Fear because I revealed more than I ever should have.

Turning my head to face the other companion in this long hallway, I gaze at her. Wondering if she pick up and dissected anything from those private thoughts spoken aloud to comfort a child. Wondering if she knew.

Because she would be the only one to see and know.

She is the only one who knew me since the beginning.

She knows me.

My answer is in a frown steeped in sorrow and eyes that hold curiosity, an ounce of knowing, and regret.

I cannot help but tense in defense as the woman stares at me. She softens even more than I could think is possible as she draws Neji and I into a warm hug.

"Tonight, watashi no musumé (My daughter)." Is whispered to me. So soft and gentle, the words are barely heard with my attuned and too-alert senses.

As she leisurely breaks her hold around us, my form melts to something less on edge. Still sitting beside the boy and I, she clasps the now strengthened and resigned boy on the shoulder. The actions garners a peek from the fated child hidden and borrowed in my chest and shoulders.

"Neji, are feeling better now?" The question falls in a soothing wave toward the long-haired boy as her gaze is soft and welcoming.

A nod moves barely from the boy's head while he reluctantly detaches himself from me and her comforting grip. A hoarse and quite 'yes' comes from him as he struggles and tilts on weaken legs. A few attempts are made before he finally comes to a stand. His white eyes seem hard and soft while he re-answers Hitomi's question with a less, quite and hoarse 'yes'.

"I am, Hyuuga-sama." A bow low and tense and quivering is acted before more words leave his frowning lips.

"Gomen'nasai , Hyuuga-sama." Another bow and the tear-stained boy flees and disappears into the long and dimly lit hallways.

A need spreads in my bones to move and follow the shaken boy, but the awareness of my situation holds me back. Casually I stumble to a stand next to the worried matriarch as I assess my predicament. The predicament of show and act. I have been gone far longer than I should from the celebration thrown for me. Any longer and it would be an act of disrespect against the head of the clan and those attending.

Turning my body to face the red woman, I bow.

"Gomen Okaa-san, but I can no longer be unaccounted for in the gathering." My voice comes out even and cold as if nothing had ever happened in the past few moments.

Moving my position from a bow I gaze at worried and understanding eyes. Nothing gives away in her gaze or language of body which could speak of curiosity and wonder towards her daughter. She gives her assent with a nod as she trails after the direction Neji left.

I retrace my steps back to the room filled with members of my clan in celebration. With each step, my thoughts are chaotically created and begin to swarm my mind in discontent at the mistake I have made. They swarm and buzz that I should not have comforted the boy. That I should have never followed. That I am a fool.

But there are thoughts that circle around the swarm sprinkling tiny sounds of disagreement. Despite Hitomi's witnessing, it was right. It was needed. The boy is of my blood. The boy is family in every sense of the word.

It was him. Not a stranger. Its okay.

Besides Hitomi can be trusted. She herself has a secret as well.

A secret for a secret.

It barely dents the volatile swarm that begins to fade as I step closer to the large doors. Thoughts begin to silently stalk in wait to pounce in the mercy of privacy. Thoughts that will need to be address and seized as they attack with sharp, serrated edges.

Standing before the door I gather the building pieces of my mask before I knock upon the wooden doors. The knock echos within the hallway as I announce to the guards, "I am back."

No sound escapes as grand doors slide open to a crowed room. Nor do eyes gather to unabashedly stare at the missing heir entering their domain, but the feeling of being watch does not go ignored. Minding the warning that springs into my mind I enter and begin to play the game again. Though now the stakes are higher. I am at a disadvantage with few options and these hounds will nip at my heels for it.

They will also tear my throat out with white teeth and fixed smiles, if I let them.

I walk unfazed as curios judgment fills the room toward me the, now, present heir. Calmly and unvexed I stride to one of the many predators of a different nature. Powerful and dangerous yet not because of strength and uncanny alertness, no reputation and persuasion are the skills they have mastered. Powerful enemies or allies in politics, they can make.

But these greedy hounds can never be truly trusted.

There lust for power is to insatiable.

Something that can be exploited.

Conversing among the throng of nobles that now consist of non-hyuuga clansmen and only main family clan members I evade, reflect, and strike with a practiced ease against the prideful and thirsty vultures. Each word is prettily spoken in a formal sentence as the dance of etiquette and politics sways and twirls and dazzles onlookers. I idly thank Hiashi for being so prepared in his lessons to teach me to become his perfect heir as I am greeted by the emerald woman again.

Without him I would not be so advantageous as I am. He gave me an opening. He gave me a skill that I excelled in. He called me a 'natural' as I breezed through his stern lessons.

This opening just grants another reason for me to be considered a genius among my clan. If the skill to maneuver among politics was not taught, I would not have moved so smoothly within it. It would look suspicious to the head of the clan if I did.

Though if I should thank anyone it would be whatever deity decided that I would be reincarnated with my memories intact. Memories full of lies and deceit and manipulation. Death and skill.

If only for moments like these.

"Ah Hinata-san, I hope this is not too forward or considered rude, but I wonder what has caught your attention so much that you needed to leave?" Glossed lips smile in fake kindness as shrewd eyes assess my from with an intellectual and uncanny gleam.

Painted nails of black stand out as they lay upon her covered upper arms of emerald. Hair pinned in an tight bun with bundle of long side bangs hanging freely and framing her slender face. Byakugan white eyes are outlined in dark green mascara and long eyelashes. She was an epitome of beauty.

Quickly I recall her name from earlier, Hyuuga Masami. A high-class seamstress with connections that spread far beyond the reach of just Konohagakure. Masami is a woman that presents danger and power. A woman that would also be underestimated given her occupation. By the intelligence and cat-like nature she radiates, she uses that to her full advantage and more.

"Masami-sama, I did not mean to cause any disrespect for my abrupt departure, but I was worried and curios about my Okaa-san. I do hope you understand. Again, I never meant to cause any trouble by it." Truthful, vague, and wrapped in a pretty bow. I politely string my words together in the woman's midst for a chance to at least make her a neutral party.

Though she does not come across as the type to make enemies with a child, rudely spoken or not, I will not take my chances with her. In the art of politics she thrives and with her connections, she would be missed and thoroughly investigated if she were to meet a tragic accident. I would rather not deal with such a hassle.

Nor the hassle if she were to become unsavory towards me.

A gleam, filled with entertainment and a mischievous nature shines in her eyes as her smile widens a tad more.

"Of course, Hinata-san I completely understand. Sumimasen, but I was quite curios." A sly tone covered her words as she practically purred them out to me.

The impish gleam never faded from her eyes, it grew. She was the cat playing with her newly caught prey.

"Also you may drop the sama, Masami-chan will fit me just fine." The cat-like woman steps a little closer before she bends down until her nose was only an inch away from mine.

This closely I could see a yellow tint in her eyes.

"At least for you kitten." Slowly she unbent herself away from me as her words purred in the air.

The emerald woman's smile went wide with interest and entertainment and an ounce of respect toward my unfazed nature of her display. Though it quickly dissipated into the fixed smile that copies every other smile in this room as Hiashi approached us.

"We will meet again, Hyuuga-san." Was the woman's parting words before she quickly disappeared in the crowd of people.

Another meeting seems to take place in the near and far future. Another meeting that depends on them. Though just like Danzo, I have a feeling Hyuuga Masami will see it through. Unlike Danzo, I have a feeling she will extend our meeting for how ever long she pleases.

Just for the sake of idle entertainment.

Again control leaves my grasping hands.

And I await to eagerly welcome it back into my arms.

I also ignore the influencing acknowledgment that surges through me. She had complete domination over the conversation and flaunted it.

Facing Hiashi, clad in white and black, I await for him to speak. Pride fills his every movement as he gazes down at me. Something resembling a smile forms on his face for a few seconds before his mouth goes back to a thin straight line.

"Come Hinata, it is time to meet your true Ojii-san." The word, true, is wrung out in sharp steel as he speaks.

"Afterwards we shall retire to the dinning area that allows us to host this many guests." Calmly he turns away and begins walking toward one of the Hyuuga clan's elders. One of many who hold much sway in this clan decisions. Of course, the head of the clan holds the power to execute or dismiss those decisions.

"Then, after our guests have had their fill and drink, we shall bid them farewell and begin making the final preparations for your cousin." A casualness fills the air as he spoke. Each word casually spoken by the man about a child's coming induction of sealing and servitude causes anger to boil my blood.

* * *

 

I am many things a murder, assassin, thief, liar, manipulator and more, but I have never partook in harming children. I have never intentionally sought a way to harm them. I have only ever defended myself against. Even trained them under orders.

I am no means a good person. I have done too many things that would slander a claim of 'hero' or anything similar. Yet I have found myself helping children in need.

When convenient for me.

Stopping an abuser. Conveniently dropping food or money in front of a malnourished and homeless child. Giving advice when needed, only to quickly flee after I have said my piece.

They never knew me. Never could identify me.

I have only ever done small things for a child in need when he/she was in my line of sight. I have fully never went out of my way for them.

Sometimes I would ignore it as well. All for the sake of myself. I am inherently selfish.

I am not a good person. Nor would I considered myself evil. A monster, yes, but never truly good or evil.

Yet there are times when I cannot stop the need to help a child. Like now.

When I could. When the time is right. When it best suits me. If there is a way.

But then again I have never cared for another like this. I have only know loyalty.

I am inherently selfish.

A lair who lies to herself.

Because I am not a good person.

I am a selfish monster who prides herself on lies and deceit.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes: HinataOc is a complicated person. Broken and lost little child. Its okay though. Because she has depth and development and complexities. She is someone who cares, but is so broken and lost. She is an unreliable narrator.
> 
> Poor girl needs some therapy-no-jutsu


	20. December 27th - Part 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto
> 
> Notes: Its here. Next chapter the aftermath. Maybe even the Hyuuga incident.
> 
> You are lovely, readers.

The guests leave.

Most of the Hyuuga, branch and main, retire and dwell within the shadows of the compound. Their forms scurry hurriedly in the darkening sky to abandon and forget this fateful hour. Regret fills the open air as it constricts and sticks to everyone lungs and hearts.

The elders, Hiashi, Hitomi, Hizashi, Neji and I stay behind in the landscape wet by melted snow and frozen from low temperatures. Night begins to descend and cloak the sky in its darkness as the sun escapes the horrid event that will begin in mere minutes. The wind carries itself ominously with a somber tone as it harshly flows across dead land.

A heavy silence falls upon the remaining few standing in the middle of the compound with rigid forms, even Hiashi. A man who exuded pride mere moments ago seems reluctant with accepted regret as his stares at the closed gates of the Hyuuga compound. Except for the elders who stand with a knowing pride. Hunched and wrinkled from age, they stand surrounding their younger blood with bright eyes that stare relentlessly into our forms that begin darkening with the rising moon.

Heavy breathing comes from the fated child as the dense silence seems to begin whispering with a black ooze of dark hatred and fear. The boy's long hair that is usually pristine is now sticky with sweat and ruffled by quivering hands that seek refuge in brown tresses. His body is slightly hunched from fear with arms crossed, roughly gripping his sides. Blunt nails dig deeply into the silk covered sides of his torso as his eyes dull with fear and the struggle to accept with shaken strength.

Neji's father bleeds unmasked anger and hatred as he squeezes his son's quivering shoulder. His grip is tight and bruising on the boy's shoulders as his eyes glare brightly against the night. Hizashi's lips are marred with a frown as rage billows from his mouth, seen and seething in the freezing air.

His rage is repaid with unsuspecting pain as a female elder mockingly forms the sign to activate one of the seals powers. A grotesque smirk widens aged skin as the younger man withers in pain on the muddy and frozen ground. The father's child closes his eyes as tears well up in the corners of his eyes from the sight. The man's grunted screams break the silence surrounding the lifeless courtyard on this dire night. The elder does not let up as glee rapidly spreads across her aged bones.

Distantly I wonder how much the woman holds value to me, how useful she is to me, and how quickly I could kill her without any evidence that could incriminate me. I wonder how skilled I must be to pull off her assassination, the time it would take to reach that level as well as the chaos that would definitely unfold should she pass.

It's a shame that all evidence suggests that she is of value and use to me. As well as factoring in the time it will take to hone and expand the skill set needed to achieve her death.

She is a kunoichi that flaunts her power.

" Enough, Chiyo-san. Hiashi has had enough and undoubtedly learned his lesson." A raspy voice wrings out beside her as the other elder, Noboru, apathetically speaks.

His eyes hold a prideful apathy as he disinterestedly gazes at the withering male on the ground before him.

A scoff resounds in the air as Chiyo glumly breaks her hold on the victim. Her aged face looks as if someone had taken her favorite toy as she turns with surprising agility to her companion.

"Tch, why?" A spoiled whine escapes her as she glares in a tantrum at the disinterested male.

"Just because screams irritate you, as it 'is a noise that you find utterly useless,' does not mean you should ruins someone else's fun." The whine seems to turn into a shriek as bony fingers creakily make quotation marks in they air as she quotes the elderly man.

Noboru's neck creaks in irritation as he slowly turns to the banshee of a woman, "Screams and banshee shrieks are annoying and useless. Too loud for my tastes. So shut up, you vile thing, so we can begin this long process. I would like to go to bed at a decent time tonight." His voice holds boredom as he casual insults and makes demands to his female companion.

A shriek reaches a high crescendo that pierces the night as she moves with deadly intent to her next victim. A dull kunai with flecks of dried blood glints as the rising moons hits it. Chip and weathered like its master rests perfectly in a hand with too thin skin. She moves with malicious glee as she passes her first victim without a thought.

The ignored man barely moves as violently twitches of the seals aftermath wracks his body. The sound of metal scraping metal sings in the cold night as Hitomi, who is comforting the boy, gently sits on the heel of her feet while her knees still press against the air. Gently she holds Hizashi's hand in defiance and comfort. Emotions of tenderness, affection, and kindness enter her eyes as she stares into the man's pained eyes. Seconds that seem like eternity, she breaks her gaze to stare at her husband. No love was found in narrowed eyes as she conveys more than I can interpret to Hiashi. Anger, regret, and unrequited love dwells within the male's eyes as he takes in the scene before him. Anger and sadness become pronounced as he stares at the boy filled fear and breaking strength that clings to his wife.

A long close of tiring eyes squeeze out any vulnerability left from the effects of a broken family before he opens with his signature coldness. The third elder that makes the trio, Hisahito, watches with alert and stern eyes. Arms are held behind his slightly hunched back as he stands still like a statue. Disgust seems to war within him as he watches both scenes before him. Disgust for the emotions and vulnerability fills the air, not the clear statement that echos boldly by a woman, clad in red. Slowly he locks eyes unto the only one who does not seem to court chaos and disobey the rule of 'logic comes before emotion.'

"Emotion itself is not frowned upon, it is the varying range of emotions that are. Such as rage and vulnerability. Emotion cannot be completely culled out of a human, for it will always find a way to show itself. Whether one knows it or not. No, emotion is something that cannot be vanished, but it can be controlled. The controlling factor is logic and, of course, discipline." Hiashi's father speaks with a cold yet vehement belief . His food barley touched as he deems the need to educate his grandchild and heir.

"Logic will always come before emotion." Hisahito said before he breaks his speech to fill his empty stomach.

Loud laughter and drunk joy fills the air as both the main family clansmen and non-Hyuuga converse around a large table and room. The branch family imprints the wooden floors as they serve guests and those who held more station above them by having unmarked foreheads. The Guards blend in the shadows and corners, still and alert, as the party continues without a care. Guards that consist of both main and branch family.

Hitomi moves with the branch family in defiance as she pours and serves. Only ever did she stop so she could converse animatedly with Masami. Familiarity and fondness finds its way onto both of the women's faces as their attire brightly clashes and beckons onlookers. The scarlet woman was as soft as the emerald woman was sharp and both of their laughs ring like bells among the rabble. Though one singed with joy as the other sung with a mischievous amusement.

Despite my accompaniment, they were ignored.

Especially Hitomi.

I was at the head of the long table surrounded by the trio of elders and the head of the family. Each spoke of lessons, experience, and the wisdom they have gained over the years to their recognized heir. Each piece of information fed to me was memorized whether I believe or care for it. Later it would come in handy, even if it was just to keep them on my side. I listen in interest with every word spoken.

"Emotion is not disregarded as a complete determinant, or even something that should be avoided and outcast, but it is agreed upon by your founding ancestors that it must be controlled." The previous head with a filled stomach speaks, pride dripping out of every word.

I take in everything with almost no emotion. I watch the interactions before me with logic, followed by a sound mind. This is a side of me that comes and goes when needed. This side comes slithering and coils around me as it takes control. Constricting emotions and a chaotic broken mind. A side that use to breathe with each step I took, only loosening its coils in privacy or rare moments.

The moments which hold resemblances of my childhood that stray in my path.

Of course now, this side of me, like my control, sways to and fro along an ocean. Floating on top of a deep blue sea, controlled by the wind and waves. They do not adhere to my call any longer as the soak up the salty water and bright sun.

Ever since my death.

A command from the clan head's mouth slices through the thick air, "Stop your childish antics at once, Chiyo-san and Noboru-san, it is time."

A stilled silence forces its way back as his words were uttered. The fighting elders close to a stop as their respective kunai dig into thin skin. One weathered and chip kunai digs deep with barely any blood flowing from the wound it created. The other sharp and polished digs just as deep with a small river of blood flowing steadily, staining the woman's gray kimono.

Neither seemed fazed as one of them bleeds freely from a new wound. If anything, the woman smiles in jubilation before she falls just a bit more into the kunai as she twists her own into her opponents skin. The man apathetically lets all of this play out with eyes that tell this has happened more than once. A hum suddenly escapes the aged woman as she euphorically moves her free hand to the bleeding wound. A soft green light encases the palm of her hand as she dizzily takes a step back. Her humming has no steady or recognizable rhythm as she rocks back and froth in her spot.

Noboru lazily lets his kunai disappear into the sleeve of his kimono before his long and bony fingers glide across short white hair in what seems a habitually gesture. Slowly he strides over to gain the distance he lost in the sudden battle with Chiyo. Just as he reached an arms length distance away from us, chiyo appears right by his side. The wound on her neck gone, the only evidence of it would be the fresh blood left forgotten on her neck.

A question forms as I gaze at her healed neck, slowly I move questioning eyes at the sadistic and masochistic elder. The humming stops as she catches my gaze. A maniacal smile widens at me with a wink as she mouths "You will know soon little-one." I nod at the woman as we all await for the Hiashi's next order.

She has knowledge. Hopefully I can learn or, at least have my own knowledge translated from hers. As long as I have the bare basics I can freely research it in my own time.

Because I cannot shake the want to end her. Unlike the others, she seems too invested in the boy's sealing.

Besides she can be a liability to me with how unhinged she seems.

Not a breath later and Hiashi gives his order. Slowly we trek a path back to wooden steps and outside walkways. The entire time Hizashi, covered in mud, lingers in the back of the group, slowed by muscles stiff from pain with Hitomi beside the him. While Neji is stationed in the middle between the elders, and his otou-san holding back an urge to flee and burrow himself within his father's muddy clothes and stomach for a sense of safety. Each step the child tries to form and cling to an ounce of courage. Trying to withhold the building fear and anxiety that threatens to consume him again.

Unconsciously I find myself beside the boy with an open and welcoming hand. Without hesitance Neji's grips my hand with a sweaty palm. All his strength seems to pour into his grip, squeezing tightly in reassurance, comfort, and safety. My action seems to let the fated child gather enough strength to battle against justified fears. Never once did the boy let go of my hand.

Until he had no choice.

Until we reached a room which screams with agony and fear.

Until he too screamed in agony and fear.

Until he walked out with fresh bandages covering his small forehead.


	21. December 27th - Part 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto
> 
> Chill like a villain, readers.

Small fingers clutching a forehead, freshly bandaged, is revealed as the door slides open. Sweat from agony still clings to the numb child with fresh tracks of tears lining his face. His clothes rumpled from obvious struggle. Bruising covers his wrists and ankles, shaped like hands, begin blooming a dark purple. Timidly he looks up to his loved ones who awaited him for an antagonizing hour. The eyes of Byakugan white show a broken numbness that clouds the boy's body and mind. Tentatively he struggles to us with no real aim or direction as he inches forward.

Mindlessly he bumps into his father with fingers still clutching onto his newly marked forehead. He doesn't register his trembling father full of rage and endless sorrow nor the broken sob that escapes dyed red lips and red nails that seek forward to grasp brown sweat-soaked tresses.

Nor does he register the heiress with the breaking mask of empathy, hatred, and sorrow. Nor her aura that leaks a murderess rage. Or the struggling attempts to cover up any true feelings.

Neji doesn't notice me, like I notice him.

He has lost a part of himself that he will never fully get back.

He will never be the same. Not truly.

A vision hazy from rage is barely fought back as I continue to watch the scene before me. My mind barely wins against its massive tide. Too caught up in the war between sorrow and rage vs indifference and logic, I did not notice a hand place itself upon my shoulder with minute shakes of struggle. A slight squeeze from the rogue hand gives pause on my inner battles and the narrow focus with it.

In a single moment the room, the hallway, and beyond the enclosed walls are seen. In my stupor and shock I see more than any normal human should. I see Hiashi with a grave surprise lining his face, the current of static blue that dwells beneath his skin and blood. I see the flowing current of bright blue in everyone as well as their skin and bones.

Beyond the hallway and within I see.

I see.

Every second that passes in time seems to slow to milliseconds and even slower. The longer I see the more I begin to feel. I begin to feel the flowing chakra within my body. It flows and rolls and jumps itself around.

It is alive.

A tug in my core becomes apparent as it stretches itself to fill every vein, limb, and muscle with its life as well as feeding the Byakugan. The chakra fills and bursts itself around my eyes as it allows me to see every detail, every inch, every wall and beyond.

It's all too much.

And I do not know how to stop it.

Hiashi, who is behind me, moves to where my peripheral should be, then to where I believe is my central vision. He is facing me yet he is not. His mouth moves rapidly and slowly at the same time as he speaks a language garbled by my overwhelmed mind. I can hear his garbled words only to lose sound like a radio filled with static. I feel to much of myself and the rapid current inside me to focus. I see to much to focus.

My breathing becomes to loud and harsh as it tries to drown out the sound moving chakra. My breathing begins to take a staccato rhythm as I struggle to command my lungs and throat. The chakra inside of me stretches even further as it sticks itself to my lungs and throat.

The tug on the center of my body starts to become sharp and short.

The elders who occupied the sealing room leave sharply as Hiashi's insistent, unintelligible words become louder. Surprise sketches on the trio's face as their gaze locks onto mine. As my mind screams that it shouldn't be possible. That I shouldn't see this much.

The trio of elder's surprise turns hard as they begin to move closer. Sharp and biting words leave Hisahito's mouth as he speaks to Hitomi, Hizashi, and Neji. Slowly the boy and his father leave as Hitomi stays behind.

I register the bandaged boy releases his fingers from his forehead to reach out to me. A broken look still lingers as life pours into his eyes. His father's grip is hard and molded in steel as he carries his child out. The boy struggles and struggles before I cannot see him anymore.

My breathing turns into gasps.

The tug on the bundle of chakra feels like fire.

The fire spreads into my veins.

Hiashi's grip hardens as he continues to speak. Behind him Chiyo and Noboru speak as well. Noboru with an apathetic nature and Chiyo with glee and jubilant pride. His grip slackens as he steps begin to move away. His face constructing in the form of anger and fear.

As he leaves, the elderly woman enters. Her large and powerful chakra does not even flinch in its movement as it quickly builds to her eyes, palms and bony fingertips. Fear and survival spread across my body and the fiery chakra as I stumble back in the wall. I could not move any further as the wooden wall stops my pathway yet I still try to reach and push beyond it.

Because I could see it.

And in my fear and panic I could not rationalize it.

Chiyo steps closer with words falling and dripping in a crazed pride. Thoughts stab scars into my mind, to live but to not give up. The response to fight enters as the response to flight fails to keep me safe.

Its been trained into me.

Ingrained.

My chakra begins to stutter as it fills my tightening fists, legs, and feet. The pain of the fire worsens before it flees from my eyes and chest and throat. The world tunnels into its normal cone as my breathing steadies back to a staccato like rhythm. Though my mind still presents danger even as the elderly woman pauses in her step. Her chakra unseen but still present as she watches with alert eyes. Her Byakugan gazes at me and the world before her as her already wide grin stretches even more. A loud and hearty laugh fills the air with undertones of disbelief and crazed glee.

My weight begins to become unbearable as I await for an action against me. The life force of chakra protests to my oblivious mind as it adheres to my unsung and unsought plans. I still drown in my fear and panic. My legs tremble as I stay in the of stance of defense.

The tug on my center strains like it is about to snap.

"Ta"

"Na"

"Inat"

"Hinata"

A feminine voice calls out the name I have reluctantly gotten use to. The voice slackens my muscles and wrenches out fear and panic plaguing my mind. I do not protest as scarlet red covers my vision and the smell of lotus and jasmine enters my nostrils.

"Leave." The word is harsh as the fire within me subsides in unusual contentment at being used. The chakra gently flows back to it original routes and flows.

The breaking strings from the center fall back into its core.

And I am left with an aching tiredness and a mind who is too wired and too active.

Protests and words left the mouths of individuals who have yet to leave. Though each sound made is barely focused on as my sole attention is on my Okaa-san.

"I said leave. You all have done enough damage today and I will not tolerate anymore, understand?" A seething command enters her tone. One I have never heard from her before.

"Really?" A dangerous edge took place in the raspy voice of Chiyo.

It garnered Hitomi's and my attention.

"I may be tied down to your clan and its idiotic rules, but I am this clan's matriarch, your matriarch. I am also the daughter of Shimura Danzo, if the title of matriarch does not pierce your thick head." Her face is hard and resolute as she gazes the elders and the head of the clan down. Confidence consumes her form as her words pour with untold threats and promises.

"Now, will you comply or do I need to teach you a lesson?" Her steely eyes lock on to the elderly woman in defiance as she utters her words.

Anger fills Chiyo's form as her teeth begin to grind against each other in her rage. Hitomi stands protective in front of me as her own Byakugan activates. As I watch the confrontation before me, my mind sputters at the red woman's protectiveness and strength. Hitomi has defied social norms before but never when orders where uttered from those of higher station. Usually obedience and meekness enters her form as she obeys their commands.

And never have I had someone stand in front of me with the thought to protect before.

My breathing becomes smooth.

"You have heard my wife, leave." Hiashi voice booms in its suddenness.

Tension lines the air as two of the three elders leave at his command. Reluctance lines the lone female of the group as she stares at the younger man. Seconds pass before a long frown etches itself on the older woman's face. Slowly she turns with a huff. Her feet drag across the floor like a spoiled and arrogant child being grounded.

The scarlet woman narrows her eyes at the man, waiting for the elder to retire the long hallway before proceeding with any action. A few moments of tense peace pass. Enough time to fully escape the grasping clutches of shock and panic and fear. Anger still resides in the precipice of my mind, dormant, as of now. Scathing thoughts lash out as I try to rationalize and organize the mess of my mind, but as I just begin to make a dent in its chaotic cluster Hitomi's face enters my line of sight.

Carefully, gently, and slowly she brings her hand to the top of my head. A caress of affection starts at the top before she tangles her fingers into my loose hair. A small smile makes its way to her face as she gives her love and worry through her fingertips. I could not help but lean into it.

"Hitomi, after you take Hinata to bed you will immediately make your way to our bedroom. We must talk." Hiashi's voice rings out in the air disturbing the moment of vulnerable affection.

Jerkily I break out of her motherly affections and the daze I have found myself in. The smile on the woman's face leaves as a heartwarming sorrow embraces her features.

"No." The word left her lips quickly as she continued to stare at me.

"Your behavior tonight, even the last few months has been unacceptable, Hitomi. I dema-" His anger and words are interrupted by steel, feminine ones.

"I said no Hiashi. I have promised Hinata I will stay with her tonight." A delicate hand reaches out to me as she said my name, only to drop away.

"If you so wish, we can converse tomorrow, but tonight I will not leave my child alone." Her gaze pierces hard before she continues to speak.

"I will not leave my daughter behind as I did my son." Her cutting words slip with intent as she picks my surprise form up.

My vision heightens as my chin is placed upon her shoulder. Her steps, heavier than before, begin to leave her husband behind. In this moment I did not have to look up at Hiashi to see his face. Nor did I really have to look to begin with. The breaking of an already heart is enough to understand.

And now I truly knew the relationship between Neji and Hitomi.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes: Boom. Almost Done with December 27th. Also Boom Again. Secret revealed. Maybe. Ya'll are smart. Also, also this has been a chapter.


	22. December 27th - Part 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto
> 
> Warnings: Death/Major character death. Violence. Blood.
> 
> Notes: This is an AU. More notes at the bottom.
> 
> Thank you all so much for the support, you're all amazing.

Pain settles on muscles, bones, and blood.

Its settles around my closed eyes, pulsing in a steady rhythm. The lights seem too bright and a single movement brings a blurriness to my strained eyes. The mere action to look is all too much. Even the darkness behind closed lids only dents the pain and strain caused by the accidental awakening of my Byakugan.

The unintentional use of my foreign chakra in a moment of shock and panic. The use that brings a stretched-too-thin exhaustion and an unusual hum of contentment. These feelings, that are not my own, flow inside of me filling every pore and molecule.

Reminding me in its constant stream that it is alive. It is here. It is within me.

Pass the veil of pain I feel almost complete, as if I have found another piece of my torn soul. A piece that is created from and for this world. My soul is still torn with mutilated pieces missing. Pieces I know will never be found. Death and reincarnation violently take a piece of your soul. A price I never willing paid, at least in the sense of being reborn. Death I had known. I had known there was little chance of survival. I had come to terms with it.

I knowingly met death.

Though I did not know how I would die.

**_Fire. So much fire. It burns._ **

But I knowingly walked by its side, understanding that there is a chance, cold skeletal hands would grip me and bring me to its world.

But I never knowingly met or dealt with the chance of reincarnation. I never knew its price. I never wished for it. I never wished to die then be reborn again like a phoenix from ashes.

I have wished for death before. I have wish for another life.

But that was when I was a child.

When I grieved.

Perhaps this is my wish granted.

"Hinata, are you okay?" Hitomi's voice rings with a motherly softness as her grip tightens in question.

A snap opening of my eyes funnels bright light as my own grip loosens only to tighten again with the encroaching pain. Unconsciously, I realize, I tightened my childish hands on her kimono as my thoughts consumed my attention. Thoughts that have wrenched me from the world.

Moving my open stinging, wet eyes into the shadows of her shoulder and neck I glance at the rumpled fabric caused by my hands. The silk is bundled and tighten around her slender neck with tiny marks of scratches caused by long nails. Gently I loosen my grip on the scarlet silk and move my arms and hands to lay awkwardly across her slim shoulders. Quietly I whisper apologies into her ear as I nuzzle closer to her warmth.

Despite my active mind I did not notice how cold I am or much else that does not pertain to my own chaotic thoughts. The coldness is almost unnatural with the way it clings to me from the inside, as if my warmth has been slowly drained from the inside out. A shiver spreads across my body as I borrow myself closer to the woman carrying me.

Idly I wonder 'how' and 'why.'

"You have used to much of your chakra, musume." The red woman's voice drifts soothingly into the air as her walking slowly comes to a stop.

"The symptoms vary from each person, but the overuse of chakra can and will exhaust the body." The sound of a door sliding open echos in the air.

"Some people feel overheated, others numb, or like you, cold. The pain of chakra exhaustion also varies with each individual, but from what my otou-san says, 'Pain can be overcome and beaten...'" Her voice continues to ring as we enter a dark room, illuminated by the soft light of the full moon.

"'Most shinobi and kunoichi, of any affiliation, experience chakra exhaustion,' my otou-san says, 'It is common, but only the elite strive against it, overcome it, and eventually use it to better themselves and their threshold for pain.'" Gently she sits me down on soft sheets as she leaves to light a few lamps and candles around the room.

"With some sleep you will regain your lost chakra and heal, but I fear sleep will not come easily tonight. Musume, I can tell, while your body holds bone deep tiredness, your mind is alive and wired." Her voice bounces off the room's wall as a dim yellow light begins to brighten and drive out the darkness.

"I can tell because it is the same with me." Quietly she strides to an oak chabudai decorated with paper, books, ink, and ink brushes.

Sitting in a proper seiza position, she delicately picks up an ink brush and dips it into the pot filled with ink. The sound of ink dampened brush hairs land and strokes itself on paper. After a few minutes she lifts her decorated head to look at me.

"Hinata, I must recommend to lay down and close your eyes. Even if you cannot fall asleep you need rest." Slight amusement fills her words as a nostalgic smile accompanies her face.

Casually I shrug at her recommendation.

I am too filled and drained with emotion to particular care for my carelessness.

To keep up any appearances.

I feel more old than I should.

A sigh pushes past her lips before she elegantly beckons with a manicured hand to come. I stumble to a stand as I unconsciously adhere to her silent command. A deep bone ache travels and pricks my weak legs as I slowly stride my heavy body toward her. As I reach the small table, Hitomi shifts her position to crossed legs and moves slightly away from the table. Just enough for one person to sit on her lap comfortably and for her to still reach the table without much hassle.

Without protest and grace, I fall into her lap. Carefully she slides her left arm around the middle of my torso in a pseudo-like hug. Her chin lays itself on top of my head as she shifts a bit more for a better position. A few more small shifts in her posture and mine, we were able to sit comfortable in the lamp and candle lit room.

A hypnotic humming vibrated her chest and danced in the room. A familiar hum clouded my senses as I felt myself drift in its waves. The red woman swayed in rhythmic motion as she begins to draw her unfinished picture. My eyes flutter to a close as I let myself drown in her comfort and motherly affection.

"Sleep Hinata, we will talk another day. Sleep, musume, I love you." Her voice still hums in song as she speaks to me. I feel myself drift further and further into Morpheus's awaiting arms.

For the first time I do not find him unwelcome.

"I know." Those words rang out in the darkness.

She Knows?

"I know"

* * *

 

A hard jolt awakes me. Warm arms, soft sheets, darkness, energy, and a the taste of danger invade my senses. In an instant the remains of sleep were torn off of me as my eyes shone in alertness. Another hard jolt, the distinct sound of metal hitting flesh, and I find myself haphazardly thrown to the ground.

Quickly I move to a defensive stance as my eyes roam themselves toward the bed. I take in a sight which melts and sears itself to be forever ingrained in my memory.

Polished metal glints as it becomes drenched in blood. The blood of Hitomi. Red blood which streams down her neck, under-robes, and long hair. Her blood splatters on dark sheets and the hand of her assailant.

Her assailant, a man, stands tall and muscled, as a flicker of surprise erupts upon his moonlit face. Just like his victim, a weapon punctures through skin and veins as it stabs deeply. His blood splatters on a manicured hand and the wooden floor. Her weapon, a decorative pin that laid in her hair not long ago, becomes drenched in warm blood. A gem gleams bright red against dark blood and the shadows of the night.

Both equally gasp and choke on their own blood. Each hand desperately grasps their enemy's hand in an attempt to stop the attacker from doing any more damage. Both struggle, but the man begins to over power the woman in sheer strength.

The physical ache and bone deep tiredness that has left with a peaceful sleep comes back ten-fold as my Byakugan unconsciously activates and my limbs become coated with chakra. The compound and beyond is shown as it activates. The narrow tunnel of vision opens and expands as the man's frantic chakra and okaa-san's fading one shows. Rashly and quickly my body moves as I focus entirely on the shinobi whose hitai-ate shows an unknown symbol.

I stop giving notice to the dying woman as my mind finds the need to survive for itself.

It's me or him.

My hands slap loudly against the wooden floor as I use them to propel my body unto and over the bed next to the unknown attacker. The male shinobi brashly wrenches out the pin stabbed deeply into his neck as his other hand quickly digs and pulls his own weapon out of the Hyuuga matriarchs neck. Her skin tears as the kunai is freed from its confines.

Blood forces its way between us, as both the man and I strike in accordance. Warm thick fluid finds itself across my cheek as I duck and tumble into the man's space to escape his quick strike.

Awkwardly I jab at the shinobi's kidneys to force a pause in his movements. Quickly, too quickly he dodges to the right and into the blood soaked bed. He rolls and flips from the bed sheets to land silently in the front of it.

A slight garbled gasp comes form the shinobi's bloody mouth as he grasps his neck tightly.

From the man's slight pause and distraction I grab the discarded pin and slide across the bloody floor and under the bed. Hurriedly the man flips the bed over with a single swing of an arm.

In those few seconds I was able to hide the weapon in the sleeves of changed clothes.

I let hesitance mask itself over my features and give pause as he reaches for me. Belatedly, I move to get away from the bloody shinobi. His hand grasps tightly enough to break bones as he yanks hard to bring me toward him. As I am thrown into the man's torso I feel the distinct pop of a dislocated shoulder. The pain was enough to tear a slight cry from my body.

A body that does not have my old resistance to pain.

The adrenaline pounds in my ears as it takes my focus away from it and the fiery licks of pain across my body as the use of chakra stretches itself. Though my mind extends some of its focus on my core and the chakra feeding my veins. Just enough focus to understand. I begin to feel the unnatural coldness taking root in my body. The cold that is caused by the exhaustion of chakra.

I must end this soon.

The pin drops itself into my hand as I grip it with the need to kill. My hands barely cooperate with its lack of muscle memory and my screaming mind. A surge of chakra zaps and bursts and fills my arms as I strike at the unsuspecting shinobi's neck. My captured arm bends unnaturally in retaliation as the decorative pin finds itself once again in the man's neck.

A scream forces itself along my throat.

It rings out into the night.

Before he could do further damage to my weakening body, hands and bodies of chakra appear and grab the attacker. My broken arm is released from his hold as he flings me across the room. The gleaming pin, clenched tightly in my hand tears itself across his throat. Pain erupts from the back of my skull as it hits hard against the wall. Darkness quickly consumes my vision as I hear rage and sorrow roar in the air.

Descending into the darkness, I foolishly hope this another nightmare created to torment me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes: First off, i'm sorry. Second off, i'm really sorry. Third off, I know, no Hanabi. My bad. Like I said this is an AU sooooo...again, i'm sorry. Please, don't hate me.
> 
> Also this is my first fight. I tried. Hopefully ya'll 'enjoyed' it.
> 
> The December 27th mini series/parts are officially done! Next chapter is the aftermath which is gonna be called Hyuuga Incident. Then a few more chapters before the academy era. Which will definitely be more light-hearted. Ish.
> 
> Though I may make that era into another separate story. Who knows. Let me know what ya'll think.
> 
> My notes are completely messy.


	23. Hyuuga Incident

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto
> 
> Warnings: Cussing. Quite a bit of it.
> 
> Notes: Like I said there is cussing in this chapter, but it won't be like this in most. Unless I find myself writing more of this OC in. Which is likely if I am being honest with myself. So will the rating change? I don't know. I really don't. Though I do like this new OC quite a bit. Yeah. If the character ever pops in again you'll likely know by the warning - Cussing, lots of cussing.
> 
> Yeah this chapter is the 'Hyuuga Incident'. By that I mean it is just talk about with cuss words. Yep.
> 
> Stay golden peeps.

 

I feel myself drifting on the edge of consciousness. My unusual heavy lids barely flicker open. Every flicker, blinds my eyes with bright light as I come out of the darkness behind closed lids. The heaviness that lays itself on my eye lids also lays itself on the rest of my body. Just as I struggle to open my eyes, I struggle to move as well.

With the heaviness comes a certain fatigue and helplessness that only drugs can provide. A dull haziness floods my veins as it dampers any lingering pain.

_Pain._

A frantic motion of sluggish limbs and a snap opening of reluctant eyes, I remember.

_Death. Blood. Pain._

_The red woman is forever red._

Bright light stings my eyes as they force themselves to adjust to change. A quick snap of pain erupts from the back of my skull and left arm and it spreads itself to the entirety of my small body. A harsh breath pulls itself in the form of a gasp as it leaps out of my dry mouth and throat.

Blearily I force my neck to move itself sluggishly to look around the room. What stares back at me is white walls with the overwhelming stench of antiseptic and bleach. Shiny metal encloses the side of the bed I lay on and white sterile sheets crease on the top of my legs.

I am in the hospital.

_It was real._

_She is dead._

Another shift in my position brings a pinching sensation to my right arm. An IV of shining metal with clear tubes and glass is hooked and dripping some sort of painkiller into my veins. The sound rings clear and loud in the bright room. The clear liquid drips and drips and drips from clear glass into my veins.

The drips are overpowered by the beep of an electrocardiogram attached to me by white tape under the hospital gown on my chest. Belatedly I realize the beeps have reach an crescendo in warning. I focus on the panicking beeps and the steady drips of the IV as I force myself to focus and remain calm. A another harsh breath exits from my open chapped lips as I try to reel in the pounding beats echoing in my chest. Soon my heart begins to beat in rhythm to the sound of a dripping IV.

A drug induced haze wafts itself over my mind as the unconscious panic and adrenaline fade. Resisting its sweet caress I pull the needle slowly out in as much precision as I can muster. The movement brings a tender pain, signaling healing and un-use, in my left bandaged arm as I struggle with weaken muscles and the soft kiss of drugs.

Blood pools in a small dot as the needle completely leaves the vein it fed its concoction too. I let the dripping needle fall as I gently lay my throbbing arm down to its side. A small clink erupts around the room as the needle collides with the floor. Silently it drips the pain relief into a small puddle on the white tiled floor.

_The kunai is in her neck._

_Her blood flows._

_And she drowns and drowns and drowns._

Gently I lay my throbbing head onto the thin and stiff pillow as I push pass the haziness of a drug-induced caress. My eyelids flutter to a close to shut out the harsh lighting of the room. I feel myself fall and jerk against the tide of hypnotic sleep.

In a hard-fought victory my eyes again meet bright light and adjust themselves. The heart monitor, the dripping IV and, now, soft breaths are the only sounds that echo in this room. The sound of people briskly walking and stern commands fill the outside but they barely breach this self-created sanctuary.

Languidly I lock eyes onto the wooden brown door that stands out in the overwhelming white of the room. A gold handle shines its polish on the light door of wood as sunlight hits it. The door stands off to the left as it stares at my side of the room. Small in size it sits between tall, clean windows and a larger door. The larger door faces the windows with an off white colour that paints its body. The colour of white that sticks to the door is darker than the walls that surround it as its handle is dull and silver.

Cautiously I move from the bed to stand on pale and skinny legs. My tender arm throbs in protest as I move it, but with a slight twist indicates that the bone is no longer broken. I remember the unnatural way it moved and cracked as I was thrown away like a tiny, stuffed doll.

_He killed her._

_The blood shines so brightly in the dark room._

_It shines and shines and shines._

I wonder how long I have been here. It must be at least a six weeks, perhaps more. How many weeks? I know broken bones will take six to twelve weeks to heal, but then again I am in a different world. Chiyo healed her wounded neck in mere seconds, would the same apply now?

_Why didn't she heal herself?_

_Her neck is open and bleeding_

_Why? Why? Why?_

I stumble as my feet hit the floor with weakened legs. Barely I stop myself from falling against cool white tiles. I stand clumsily without the help of hands or the bed beside me. A few more seconds and I awkwardly obtain my balance on weak legs. I half expect to crumple from muscles that have been still and not used for a given amount of time. For at least six weeks of no use.

No. Not six weeks. Six weeks would be the answer if I applied the rules of my old world. A world I do not live in any longer. A world where its rules do not apply to this one. You could not heal a deep wounded neck in the matter of seconds in the past world.

_He wrenches out the kunai._

_Her blood sprays as she falls._

_She falls and falls and falls._

_It hits my cheek._

_No. No. No._

Grimacing, I force myself to stop trying to find unknown and lost answers. Answers will come, but not from logic that applies to a different world's logic. I seek logic and knowledge that evades me in this moment of time. Instead, I will continue to test my legs and walk towards where I believe the bathroom is, the door which stands out with light wood and a golden handle.

The main reason is to find a mirror. I need to see the damage done. I must see my appearance. Perhaps, I can tell how long I have been laying in that hospital bed.

I turn the steadily beeping rhythmic machine off before I unattached the wires on my chest. Better to think the machine turned off then the noise of an un-beating heart. A dead child. This way nurses or doctors will not scramble quickly to this room. Neither a nurse nor doctor will set foot in this room until it is in their rounds by how archaic the electrocardiogram is.

Or until they feel like it.

Shakily I walk with mounting pain as I force my legs to move. Each step brings a pricking sensation but I do not fall. After a few more steps, I no longer fumble in my balance as I attempt to move. The pain brings hot treading tears down my face as I take short breaks after every four steps. Leaning myself against the wooden unpainted door, I swallow the childish cries climbing my dry throat.

I make it a goal to build my resistance to pain. This is pathetic.

_Darkness quickly covers my senses._

_The gem shines brightly in the pin clenched tightly in my hand._

_I hear a roar of rage and sorrow and pain._

_He roars and roars and roars._

A hard inhale and exhale pushes through my mouth with a narrowing of my eyes. Breathing through the pain I open the wooden door. What greets me is a simple bathroom. A white toilet stands in the center of the back wall of the bathroom with a small standing shower on the side of it. A small sink with a decent size mirror above it faces the foggy glass enclosed shower. Beside the sink another mirror stands tall, stuck to the wall, as it faces the opposite side that is untouched by the shower.

Using the handle as a crutch because of the pain, I slowly and painstakingly move toward the mirrors and sink. My free hand stretches to the metal sink to grab for support as my legs shake and tremble. My body falls into the little strength of my arms and the supporting sink. Heavily I lean into the side of the sink as I haggardly close the door with an aching limb. My eyes become even wetter with closing lids as sweat breaks from my pores and staining cheeks from trailing tears. A longer break is needed as the pain swells tides into the shallows of aching muscles.

My breaths come out in small cries as I grip the sink, hard, in pain. Plump lips are bitten harshly to stifle the small noises that rush out of my mouth. Skin breaks and a pool of blood swells up from broken skin.

_Her body falls awkwardly on the bed._

_Her eyes dim in death._

_Her chakra fades out of existence._

_She is dead. Dead. Dead._

The pain lingers and pulses as I gather just enough strength to stand and open my closed eyes. My right arm still uses the sink as a crutch as I look into the tall mirror before me. Besides from the obvious pain and sweat and tears I look surprisingly unscathed. Smooth, clear, and clean skin glows brightly with its sweat covered paleness. My long hair is barely ruffled as it reaches down to the middle of the back. Closely I look at the bangs cut straight across my forehead for any obvious change in length.

None.

The bangs still cover my natural thin eyebrows, and the longer yet shorter side bangs still frame my face as they stop about an inch below my jaw-line. Barely anything has changed. I have not been laying in this hospital so long that my hair has grown a noticeable length. It would get rid of the possibility of being here longer than about two weeks, if I go by the pace in which my hair grows, but the answer is still unclear.

Unless, of course, my hair has been taken care of while I lay unconscious. It is something I would not put pass the Hyuuga clan. Appearance always matters.

Forcing down the irritation of unknown I take in the rest of my appearance. A thin and scratchy hospital gown covers most of my thin body, stopping just above my knees. A bandage, not a cast, covers my left elbow and lower arm where my bone was broken. It limply lays on the side of my leaning body as I forgo its state to look at my head. A bandage wraps itself around my forehead, under my bangs, and around the lower half of my skull.

My thick and straight hair covers most of the white cloth as it peeks out below my temples and the outer-sides of my eyes. Deftly I move my left arm to lift half of my hair to peek at the back of the bandaged. Besides the slight dampness from sweat, the white cloth is completely clean, no blood, just a throbbing pain.

Carefully I caress where the wound would be, besides the hissing from movement and my touch, not even a bump is felt. Whatever technique they used, only pain seems to be left behind. Why?

So pain cannot be taken away? Or is it all psychological? My body remembers and it unconsciously forces the receptors of nerves to act accordingly? Can they block and numb the signals firing from the brain, but for whatever reason they believe it would be best not to? Perhaps it is a technique that requires knowledge and precision that not many possess? Or it is something of ill practice? Considering if it is even thought of or created in the first place. If it could be created in the first place.

This world seems full of a wide margin of possibilities and obscure boundaries.

_I want to live._

_No please! Don't die!_

_I want to live._

_Don't leave me!_

_It hurts and hurts and hurts._

_I am going to survive._

Letting my hair and arm fall I glance at myself one last time to assess any damage left. Again, nothing is shown besides the pain leftover from my completely healed wounds. Sighing, I look away and move toward the toilet to relive myself from the sudden feeling of a full bladder.

After struggling to do the most basic of needs, I quickly wash my hands and face with warm soapy water. Sweat and tears are washed and dried away for the moment as I begin to steady myself for a trip back to the bed. The somewhat subsided ache pounds fiercely as I open, leave, and close the door behind me.

Entering the room, a nurse stands before me, clad in a white short-sleeved uniformed dress and heels. Her bright outfit covers her neck to her knees in a straight and professional manner. No crease, wrinkle, or stain is seen on her stark-white outfit.

Crossed arms below her chest, a hip cocked to the side, accompanied with a frowning face, completes her disappointed stance. Her frowning round face, clear of any bangs or hair as her short brown tresses are styled into a tight ponytail, gives a somewhat stern look as she gazes at me. Large and light hazel eyes, surrounded by short lashes and sun-kissed caramel skin, narrow themselves at my aching from.

Her gaze fully softens as she takes in my form, "Idiot, what were you fucking thinking?" The nurse's voice comes in a raspy and natural growl as she speaks.

"Look at you, you look like utter shit. Really, deciding to be a fucking idiot by taking out the IV and the electrocardiogram wires without a thought. Especially while having a motherfucking severe case of chakra exhaustion" Her crossed arms become uncrossed as her hands find their way to her cocked hips.

Her foot taps in an agitated rhythm, "But, of course, that isn't the only thing you decide to do that makes me question how fucking hard you really hit your head. Without assistance, your stupid ass decides, 'Oh lets walk to the bathroom sounds like a grand motherfucking time.'" Her body starts to come to life as she makes exaggerated motions.

Without any prompt her hands grip my hips as she heaves me into herself with a steely hold. I cannot contain the gasp of pain or the childish tears beginning to flow. She quickly positions me to a more comfortable position as she runs and slides next to the bed.

"Next time find some common fucking sense and this won't happen." Gently she lays me down and puts the rumpled thin blanket onto of my legs.

"Look, kid, I am sorry for hurting you even more than you already are, but this was the only way I could think of without giving you anymore shitty pain. I mean, yeah, the whole pick you up thing hurt like a motherfucker, but at least you didn't have to walk." One of her hands went back to her curvy hips while the other moved in motion to the symphony of her words.

The nurse's face animates emotion with every word, "So bright side and all that. Next time, maybe, just-fucking-maybe, you'll think before you act, huh?" Gingerly she puts her motioning hand down as a certain exhaustion only created by long hours and hard work wafts across her face.

"Look I can tell your pretty intelligent besides being a huge dumb ass and shit, hell stubborn, if your little action earlier is anything to go by. So I'll bite the fucking sharp kunai and play a little catch up with you." I give her a questioning look as the tears begin to halt to a stop.

"Yeah, I knew it. Your a curious little shit, ain't you. So, I'll give it to you blunt, the way I fucking like it." A sharp smile appeared quickly just to disappear as quickly.

A large frown stood out against lines that only appear because of bountiful happiness and joyous laughs, "Your okaa-san is dead kid, but so is her asshole of a murderer. Don't worry, your the one that killed him, fucking painfully too." A gleam entered her eyes as she looked at and through me.

"Be proud kid, you avenged her by ruining that Kumogakure scum's neck with a fucking decorative hair pin. Even better, that piece of shit was Kumo's head ninja, good fucking job there. Of course, the shitty fourth Raikage tried to blame us and get even. Hell, that asshole tried to get your otou-san executed at his fucking place, but it didn't happen." The gleam seems to intensify as she stared down at my form.

A grimacing pride forms on her face as she assesses my reaction to her words.

A mask of cold indifference took place on my tear-stained face as I take in her words. Pain lingers throughout my body but it has lessened since I have not moved. Carefully the nurse snatches the fallen wires plugged into the heart monitor. A slight wave of the wires in her long-nailed hand and another wave with her free hand toward the wires and me, motions an indication to reattached them.

I nod at her silent question, "With the death of the Hyuuga matriarch his shitty demands became null and void, un-fucking-less he wanted to take full blame of the affair and the damned implications that come with it. Like I said, he backed down without much of a fight." In an efficient and quick nature she attaches the wires to my chest with new clean tape without any hassle.

The sounds of a electronic beating heart begins its rhythm again, as the machine comes to life with a push of a button. "Of course Shimura Danzo isn't fucking hearing it. That old man is practically pulling any and all strings to get justice for the death of his daughter, but...well...shit.." A harrowing sigh fills her body as she picks the fallen IV needle, which no longer drips fluid, and wraps it around the metal pole.

Making sure the dirty needle and clear tubing will stay put she continues with a long sigh, "Look I get it, hell if I was in his position I would tear this shitty world apart, but...as much as he tries he ain't going anywhere."

Her left hand drags itself across her tight, short ponytail, "Nobody wants a war. Nobody, kid. So if that means giving a fucking shitty resolution to an already shitty shit storm, well, they'll do it. Everyone, even your clan has agreed to that. So no war and a justifiable angry father. Seriously, fuck this shit." Her left hand catches the tiny and frizzled curls hanging freely from the back of a tight ponytail. She tugs at them with a quick jerk of irritation before her hand falls back to the side.

"Fuck, you need to look at the bright side though. This could end in more deaths. Hell a another fucking war. Ain't no one ready for that, fucking trust me on this kid. Look it sucks, but it is what it is, understand?" Her hands grip the standing metal of the bed as she leans in to look at me.

Again I nod. I know all to well the ravages of war, the consequences, the aftermath. Despite everything I can still think logically about this. My emotional crutches are gone. One away. The other-

_Her body is on the bed as he throws it._

_The sounds of his actions rings across the tense room._

_Dead. Dead. Dead._

I can think clearly. It has been melted and melded into my soul. Despite everything, when needed, I can have a clear mind. I can think logically.

A few more assessing seconds pass by before she moves away, "Good." That was her only answer as she begins to pick up her clipboard that laid on top of the the beeping machine.

The sound of pen on paper and wood scratches across the room as my eyes droop from unexpected and abrupt tiredness.

"Sleep kid and don't worry about waking up with a fucking IV needle sticking in your veins. All you need is rest now. Hell even if you needed more than rest I ain't gonna bother. I ain't gonna spend my time or this hospital's resources cause you decide to take out the fucking IV again." Her raspy voice begins to blend in and out with the sounds of steady beeping and a pen writing.

"Fuck, that reminds me, I gotta find a nurse that has been irritating the fucking shit out of me to clean your dumb ass mess up. I'm fucking lucky to be head nurse because of this. Kami knows it ain't the perks of this shitty-ass job." Her raspy voice comes out in a grumble as she rants with a natural growl.

My lids begin to stay closed longer and longer, "By the way name's Ito Miu, Kid."

As the awaiting darkness gets harder and harder to fight against, I remember my lingering question, "Ito-san how long have I been here?" My words are mumbled and coated with exhaustion.

A loud snort comes from the tall woman, "Three days kid. Three fucking long-ass days." The scratching of a writing pen stops as I can no longer open my eyes against the tide of pain and beckoning sleep.

I have been gone for three days.

She has been dead and gray for three days.

"Again kid, good job. You made it." The distinct clicking of heels echo and fade out of the room. A door opens and closes to a click leaving me alone with my thoughts.

_Gomen-nasai Okaa-san._

_Dead. Dead. Dead._

_I do love you._

_I do._

_You were the mother I never had._

_Gomen-nasai._

_Shes dead and bloody._

_I did truly love you._

_It's pathetic that in your death I could finally admit it._

_Your dead._

_And I am a monster._

_You fall and fall and fall._

I descend into darkness and Morpheus awaits with sharp claws. Nightmares and utter torment is gifted to me as I enter his realm. His gift is granted to me with love and hate and endless sorrow.


	24. Higanbana

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto
> 
> Notes: This is one of the last chapters for HinataOc childhood arc. Mostly character building and new experiences shaping her character a bit. This and maybe two more chapters will be posted to this story before I create the sequel that deals with Genin/Academy era! With the academy era in flashbacks, most likely. Don't take my word for it though. Oh and also the sequel will deal with most of the created plot lines from this story i.e. the hyuuga clan secrets! Yep. Things are gonna change ya'll.
> 
> Anyways have a good day!

Thin delicate petals of red stare and reach out to me as I find a sliver of the red woman within them. The flower shines like a beacon as its red tendrils curve upwards to the ceiling. The meaning of death is etched in red as the Higanbanas stand alone in artificial lighting. Gently I pick the equinox flower from its prison to purchase and rot away in a field full of the dead.

Its thin stem of vibrant green stands out against my pale skin and black dress as I move it closer to my chest. The lone flower grants a painful closeness, loneliness, and sorrow as it stands tall and proud in my hand. Gazing at the flower I truly understand why the red woman looked as if she found god in its petals.

Dead loved ones are like our faith, our religion, and we pray with grief, longing, and shared memories. We pray in black clothes and tightly held flowers as we foolishly hope in reverence that this is a dream, the dead will come back with life and love. Then when closure comes, if it ever comes, we read the scrawling text in the book of memories and the pieces they have left behind.

I now understand the red woman's gaze. I now understand what it is like to lose someone you love. I now understand the longing for the dead.

It hurts.

It hurts just as deeply as the longing to be loved and accepted and to never be lonely again.

I stare at the higanbana as if I have found god. I stare at the red spider lily because I have found my mother. The flower with the meaning of death gives me a meaning of life.

Looking away from the flower of death's petals, I remember rebirth is scribe into its veins. This flower is a symbol of reincarnation as well. My grip on the stem tightens.

Glancing one last time at the higanbana clasp tightly in my hand, I turn and move toward the counter with an awaiting Yamanaka Inoichi. The man gazes at me with a comforting softness and not an ounce of pity as I approach him. The walls within his shop, at this moment in time, only witness four people and the ever vibrant plants that dwell within them.

The atmosphere created by us a year ago has vanished as I stop and gaze at the man without any mask adorning my emotions. His intelligent pupil-less eyes must see something in my broken state to forgo any suspicions and games. The calculating game we played seems to lay to a rest as I hand over the lone flower to the man. It is not forgotten as Yamanaka gently takes the flower from my hand, simply stalled.

Though I will not fool myself to believe that is the only or main reason for this reprieve. Shimura Danzo is the third person who stalks behind the small flower shop's walls. The man who whisked me away from paranoid hands and white eyes.

_I stare at the familiar white walls of the hospital as the nurse leaves to inform Hiashi of my latest checkup. After I have left the care of the hospital within my fourth day, Hiashi has made it a certain goal of his to check and re-check his daughter for any lingering side effects of chakra exhaustion. Besides the fatigue and lingering pain, which vanished after the second day of leaving the hospital, I have not had any side-effects now or within the last three days after._

_Silently I wait, clad in black, and watching the sun smother the horizon with kisses of reds, oranges, and yellow. The passion of the longing sun and the sorrow of the leaving moon transfixes itself into my grieving mind. As reds begin to melt into a fury of purples, a man appears before me._

_Shimura Danzo gazes at the last leaving piece of his dead daughter before he simply walks toward me and takes me away. With a blink of an eye I stand in a room of dark wood and white paper. The man walks with rigid steps which speak of silent grief and imprisoned rage as he approaches a small table decorated with steaming tea and two empty cups._

_Stiffly he sits before the table as if metal melded to his bones. His voice breaks through the silence as he commands me to seat near him. I obey without much thought. Silence enters the room again as I pour him and I tea. It's Matcha._

_An hour goes by as we sit in silence with untouched tea. There is nothing to be said or told as we sit. Everything is already known, people have already been informed with or without permission. There is no need to waste breath on words already spoken._

_"You have my daughters eyes." His words come out soft and jagged as they break the silence. "There is a hint of lavender in them."_

_My only response is a nod to the man. He does not expect an answer filled with words. Nor does he want one. Silence enters the room again._

_A few more minutes pass before an elderly man, clad in red and white, enters the room with familiarity and ease. His face is set with a grim exasperation as he looks toward the man he intrudes upon. No indication or care comes from the funeral dressed man as the Hokage stares at him. A heavy sigh heaves the Third's body before he sets his eyes on my bowing form._

_As I begin to come out of my bow, the slight movement of rustling fabric catches my attention. Sarutobi Hiruzen, sits before us as he produces a tea cup hidden in his sleeves, "May I, Hinata-chan?"_

_Glancing at our mutual host for permission, I proceed to fill his cup. A soft 'Arigato' comes from Konoha's leader before silence settles around the room once again._

_"I am suppose to bring you back, Hinata-chan, but I have found myself needing a small break. Perhaps after a cup of tea we will go. How does this sound?" The Hokage's hat rests beside the table as the man speaks._

_Thin spiked white hair moves gently as an aged hand strokes his goatee, "That is fine, Hokage-sama." A soft hum comes from him while sipping the Matcha tea._

_Silence continues to envelope Danzo, Hiruzen, and I. Though shared grief needs no words. Ten minutes pass before the Hokage decides to leave, but instead of what was intended or promised, Sarutobi and I, accompanied by Danzo, found ourselves in front of the Yamanaka flower shop._

_The Hokage peers down at me while we face the entrance of the shop, "I have know Hitomi since she was a baby." The esteemed figure's words drip with nostalgia._

_Without any prompt or warning Shimura leaves and enters the shop, "She was a wonderful woman and the light of my old friend's life, despite his demeanor. She was the light of most, even mine." Gently he bends down to my eye level._

_His stature and persona resemble that of a kindly grandfather, "Gomen, Hinata-chan, but I have a favor to ask of you?" His hands fall onto my shoulders as his brown eyes stare into my own white eyes._

_"Of course, Hokage-sama, what is it?" The tone that encases my words borders between a cold apathy and silent sorrow._

_His eyes close for a second before he reopens them, "Please take care of him, or at least, make sure he knows he is not alone." I nod my acceptance at his request._

_In a whisper I speak his title again before I verbalize my agreement. Even if I find myself in a disconnecting distance with the world, "You may call me by my first name Hinata-chan, even Ojii-san. I believe Hitomi would have wanted that." A chuckle draws its way out of the elderly man before he continues to speak, "If I go by her ranting and raving."_

_Another chuckle, one with less mirth, exits his mouth, "Come, let us buy some flowers for her as it her funeral today. Do not worry, it is on me and I will get us there on time. I promise Hinata-chan." With a creak of old bones he stands before he leads me into the shop._

The Third Hokage is the fourth man being witnessed by these walls as he approaches the counter with white chrysanthemums in hand. Pleasantries are exchanged by the adults while Inoichi takes and rings up the flowers with the Hokage's insistence. Red petals flood the side of my vision as Danzo grasps Higanbanas tightly in his hand.

I could see the moment where the leader of Konoha is about to speak before he is interrupted, "I will pay for mine as well as Hinata's, Hokage-sama." The caned man's deep voice seems shattering as he speaks with a clip coldness.

The grieving father got his way.

* * *

 

The day is long and bright as freezing winds blow with fury. The sun hangs above guests, friends, and family in the clear blue sky. Despite the openness of the sun and its warm rays, it does not melt the chill in the air. No rain falls or snow covering the ground beneath the feet of those that attend the funeral. Each puff of warm air from every individual's mouth is seen as a sea of black stands in ceremonial sorrow.

Hitomi's picture stares at the gathered crowd before it. Red lips smile and match a part of the decorative kimono seen. Her hair is styled elegantly as a decorative pin gleams red. The same pin that was ruined by blood and confiscated.

She stares with a gleam of unbounded happiness before us as the sun hits and shines with the picture. A stark contrast when pitted against the dark atmosphere and downward tilts of lips. Danzo stands beside the parted center and me while Hiashi occupies the other side of me. Each man holds a cold fury towards another which is only tempered by the circumstance of a tragic death of a loved one.

_No words were voiced as they begin to communicate with a narrowing of eyes as we arrive for the service. Within moments of silent communication both men nod once to each other before leading me inside and entering together. Each man begins to walk along a short rope with threads of cordiality and respect as they enter the gathering sea of people. The rope ends when this day passes away into the night. Together, for this, they stand in a presented front as guests begin to arrive with condolences and paying respects to the grieving family._

In the parted sea of black, robes of red and white stand out in a bright contrast as it moves within the sea of people. Few turn to watch as the Hokage walks beside them as he moves toward the picture. White chrysanthemums bow lowly in his weathered hand as he approaches the smiling picture. Gently he lays the flowers beside the framed picture with a lowered head. A moment passes before he turns and leaves to be swallowed up in the crowd before him.

As the robed man makes his last step a line forms before the picture with the same flower clasped in almost every single hand. The line moves slowly as every person places the white chrysanthemum beside the picture with remembrance and respect. As the line moves, the time to greet the picture of a dead woman moves closer and closer.

Then it is time. After Hiashi lays the same flower on the lake of white with a short sacred moment, I begin to move as he takes his own last step away from the temporary monument. Moving closer to bright white petals and the smiling picture of the first person I loved who loved me back, my legs begin to feel heavy.

Each step brings more heaviness then the next as if I walk with ever increasing weights. My heavy walk slows to a stop when I begin facing the frozen dead women, trapped in paper and behind framed glass, only a few feet away. Gently I lay down the delicate flower of red upon of lake of white. The higanbana floats on top of white chrysanthemum petals as I bow my head toward the picture of a woman.

A numbness seems to hook serrated claws into my veins as I attempt to feel more in my heavy feeling body. Every attempt to rip the hooks out fails, leaving only bloody hands and ripped veins. The numbness begins to bleed and drown my body in its wave as I walk toward Hiashi. The little grief I held onto drowns and sinks to the bottom of an endless ocean. I feel completely disconnected to the world.

In obvious disconnection, the world begins to move slowly. Noises fade in and out as words still ring with a clear voice. Any action has a slow movement as it oddly feels completely weightless. I take in everything yet nothing at the same time as the funeral continues on.

The only thoughts created in my mind all seemingly have to do with rain.

**_Isn't it suppose to rain on days like these._ **

**_Shouldn't the heavens weep heavily from a gray and dark sky._ **

**_It should rain. Why is it not raining? Why?_ **

These thoughts are looped and repeated.


	25. Grief

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto
> 
> Notes: Last chapter for this book, Yea! Next book will come a be a bit more light-hearted? Maybe? Probably. I mean it's the academy/genin years. So maybe. Still gonna have angst though. Anyways, thank you everyone for reading, liking and/or commenting. Second book shall be called, "Second life" I know, I know, very creative am I.
> 
> Stay cool, little beans. You are amazing.

After the tidal wave of numbness washed upon my shore, what was left behind was pieces of rotten carcasses of emotions.

Anger. Sorrow. Despair. Nostalgia. Loneliness. Hatred.

Every single piece of those emotions broke through the grains of my skin and borrowed and buried themselves into my soul. They dug deeper and deeper and deeper until I couldn't find myself within their shards.

I am vulnerable and restless and so, so very tired.

Nothing seems to pry away the stuck glass shards of emotion. Nothing.

I have tried every avenue possible to find a way from being lost, but every turn, every nook and cranny I explore, I find myself back where I started. A dark suffocating place, full of fears and bigger monsters than myself.

Just like before, but instead of wandering alone trying to find a sliver of something more; I wander trying to escape the sliver of something more. I have tried to tear apart, to burn, to shatter the remaining pieces into dust. Though they remain absolute and unbroken.

I relentlessly undergo the training of becoming a Kunoichi. I devour any and all knowledge set before my eyes to learn and be educated. I find myself at night with aching muscles, bleeding fists, and blurry eyes because I push my limits and more. All to escape.

All to escape this pain.

Not to show my potential or become the best as I have set out and planned. Not to become recognized and endorsed for better opportunities, for more contacts and connections. Not to find more ways to survive.

No. To escape. To run.

From myself. I have never **_ran_** from myself.

To myself, for myself, and away from others.

Never myself.

Until now, because I cannot let go of this grief. Even though I have yet to cry and scream and shout, but that is a weakness right?

Then why can I not find the strength to end this. Each day passes and each day I find myself rotting and bleeding and shattering. I am so weak.

The ink brush in my hand stutters across the paper ruining the unwritten word. Anger forms too quickly and too eagerly I as stare at my mistake. The ink brush in my hand splinters with my tightening grip before I let it fall onto the wooden desk. As the ink from the bristles of the brush stain the table, I crumpled the second ruined paper. The thin paper is too easily crushed as I put more strength then needed to accomplish this action. With a flick of a wrist the crumpled and stained paper finds itself a home within a wooden trashcan.

As the paper makes soft sounds against wood, footsteps move and distance themselves away from the occupied library. Now there is one individual who breathes of ink, paper, and the gathered dust from unused scrolls and books, me. Rather harshly I find myself violently take a new piece of paper to redo my failed attempts. This is the third time I find myself re-writing about the Hyuuga clan history.

All because of a simple mistake.

Picking up the brush, I carelessly wipe away the staining ink. In the aftermath, not only is the dark cherry oak desk stained with the liquid, the side of my left hand and the top of my sleeve is touched by its dark colour as well. Giving only a mere glance at the consequence, I dip the brush's stained bristles back into the blue ink bottle. Pushing the dripping bristles against the small glass bottle to get rid of any excess ink, I begin to write without any mishaps again.

Memorized history becomes rewritten as I brush words about the founding clan elder, Hyuuga Hideyoshi. How his clan was of nomadic birthright and originally descended from the land of Iron. How the Hyuuga clan traveled by the seasons, stars, and animals to live and thrive within this world.

I write about how the clan is the oldest clan on this earth, with the Senju and Uchiha close behind in ancient founding. I write about how the clan descends from Otsutsuki Hamura, second son of Kaguya and brother of Hagoromo, the man who developed the Byakugan. How the dojustu was mainly used by our clan for tracking as well as being the main reason for the Hyuuga nomadic lifestyle of hunting and gathering.

I write about how the clan had enough power to stand alone against the Senju and Uchiha...

Too vehemently engrossed to not repeat the same mistake a third time, I did not hear the sound of approaching footsteps. Nor did I notice a figure standing before me with a determined and regretful look upon his features. Not until the splintered ink brush was taken away from my moving hand.

Irrational anger took place among my features as I look up from another ruined paper. Too irrational and volatile I could not mask its notable presence. My eyes narrow at the head of the clan, Hiashi, as he examines the splintered brush before me. He face morphs from unknowing and regretful sorrow back to his usual cold hardness.

Disrespectfully I stare down the man as he drops in a perfected sieza position. My nails begin to dig into the stained wood as seconds pass without a word said. Having enough of it I begin to open my mouth to speak. Words full of venom and acid begin to form of the tip of my tongue before paper etched with ink and a red decorative pin appears before my sight.

Any and all words stall and choke on my teeth.

Before me a clean pin shines brightly, taped on paper with a few specks of dried, stained blood. The decorative pin that was used to stab and jaggedly slit a man's throat. My hands unconsciously twitch as I recognize the gleaming red pin.

My eyes follow as Hiashi brings the paper down on the scratched desk. A drawing with a master's touch lays brushed on the paper. The name Hitomi is signed on the bottom of the sheet.

I can feel my eyes widen. This was the drawing she began and finished that night.

A brushed phoenix stands in a meadow of flowers. Flames cover around the majestic bird as they begin to spread among the field. The field of Higanbanas. The phoenix spreads its wings as if it were about to take off from the flames and ashes it has left behind. In the midst of fiery flames a small butterfly leisurely floats among the destruction.

The meaning a rebirth is clear.

Droplets of tears begin to form and fall on the picture as I stare. Slowly I move back to the written name, Hitomi. Underneath I notice more words written, 'Hinata, I know and I love you.' The words become stain and blurred with tears as they begin to fervently flow.

She knows. How?

She knows. Why?

She knows and she loves me.

A choke sob pushes past my throat and lips as it echos in the air. Agony is written upon the strangled noise. More choked sounds leave my quivering lips as they being to crescendo into something akin to a scream. Somehow I find myself buried into the chest of my otou-san as I clutch and dig my fingers into his chest.

In moments, I attempt to push away from him as words claw and crawl away from my mind, in broken syllables and thoughts. Broken thoughts sound in the air as they are drowned out by the building noises of sorrow and rage and grief.

The man just holds me tighter, "I am sorry, Hinata." His grasp around me encases me as I struggle to leave and cling to him. "I am here, Hinata." His words were so quite yet they loudly push through my hazy and breaking barriers.

"Musume, you are not weak." The sobs wrack my body in fury as the embedded shards beneath my skin begin to crack. "I am!" Is pushed through my mouth as it slices the man before me. "I am! I'm pathetic!" Tiny fists form before they bang upon his chest. "Weak!" A sharp tug rips his kimono.

"This is weakness!" Another punch to his chest with less strength before. "Crying is a weakness!" Another tug rips the kimono a bit more.

"And I couldn't save her..." Any little strength left leaves me as I begin to become limp. "It should have been me." My hands helplessly grab and re-grab his torn clothes as I can't seem to grasp myself or him. "Please." The plea leaves me as it strikes the man's heart.

The word is sharp and jagged as it digs itself into the man. Too many words and reasons and thoughts formed the word as it plunged into skin and muscle. Too many things are melded into the plea that could not be said.

My name is brokenly spoken as the crying fit recedes into choked breaths and too small sounds, "Never say that." Words come out harshly and too softly from Hiashi, "Never." The word is a plea filled with more words and thoughts than could ever be said as my own. "I cannot lose you, musume." His left hand moves toward the back of my head as it gather strands in between the gaps of his fingers.

"Your death would have given me more sorrow and despair than I could handle." His grip tightens as he squeezes my small quivering body with as much warmth as the cold man could. "I know I could never be the parent Hitomi was, but you are my life, Hinata." His words strangle with grief as he speaks, "Though I have not showed it like I should have, you are my life."

'I love you' is spoken in silence.

I begin to cry again.

The shards borrowed and buried beneath the grains of my skin and into my soul, breaks and shatters away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes: Hiashi is human. Hinata is human. And being human can be hard and complicated. HinataOc has definitely had a new experience. An experience that has given her a new perspective and a path for change. Of course, changing can be hard and it may only give a little noticeable change to those close to you. She will definitely be a bit different around certain people, but will not so much change, if any, to strangers.


End file.
